


Heartbeat

by enbookcased



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: (sorta) - Freeform, 3RACHA, Anal Sex, Angst, Anonymous Sex, Bad Humor, Bang Chan is Whipped, Blow Jobs, Bottom Seo Changbin, Creampie, Drinking, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, M/M, Misunderstandings, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Club, Sexual Tension, Smut, Soft Seo Changbin, Top Bang Chan, they're kinda dicks to each other for a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24066064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbookcased/pseuds/enbookcased
Summary: Chan glanced back over at the figure, watched him down a shot. His profile was so familiar to Chan, but then of course it would be. The disguise the man wore—hat, hoodie, mask, the same as Chan—would have worked against anyone else, anyone who hadn't spent years living together, sweating together, literally in each other's pocket on the daily. Yes, Chan relented, it was an okay disguise, for anyone other than him.AKA The Anonymous Club Sex Fic no one asked for.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Seo Changbin
Comments: 37
Kudos: 285





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii! This is my first fic, please be gentle with me :) 
> 
> This fic is also loosely inspired by the _awesome_ BTS fic [InvisibleColors](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17202809/chapters/40450211) by QuadeNomen.
> 
> This is unbeta'd because I don't know anyone in the fandom yet. Sorry! The story is (mostly) written and I will be updating probably on a weekly basis. Tags are for the overall story, not just this chapter. 
> 
> The characters depicted within are not to be confused with their real-life counterparts. I can separate fantasy from reality, I promise ;)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> You can come yell at me about Stray Kids on [tumblr](https://binracha.tumblr.com/) where I like to post bits of my writing from time to time. :)
> 
> Now also on [twitter](https://twitter.com/enbookcased)!

The club was dark and loud, only thin, pulsing lines of neon illuminating the crowd within. For maintaining anonymity, it was perfect. Changbin poured another shot of soju—finishing the bottle—and turned to face the teeming, writhing dance floor. It was around 2am on a Saturday night, peak hours for getting lost in the crowd, for blending in with all the sweaty, dancing bodies, for scratching an itch he sometimes hated he even had.

He leaned against the bar and let his gaze sweep over the crowd under the pulled-down brim of his hat, trying his best to remain unobtrusive, but no one was paying him any mind. He wasn’t wearing anything flashy, black jeans and a hoodie, nothing eye-catching. That wasn’t the point. The point was waiting for him in the back of the club; he just needed a little interest and a bit more than that of liquid courage before he made his way back there. He downed his shot and pulled his mask up over his nose, leaving a bare sliver of face on display. The alcohol did its thing and Changbin smiled grimly to himself. He could feel the beat of the music pulsing in his veins as if it were living inside of him. He wasn't drunk, but he wasn't sober, either. He could never do this sober.

He caught the eye of another masked individual a few feet away who quirked one eyebrow at him underneath their hoodie and Changbin nodded. Hoodie Boy jerked his head toward the back; instead of answering, Changbin started moving, threading through the crowd. It was time.

He met the hooded figure at the door the back room, where they were both nodded through. Hoodie Boy, as Changbin had already nicknamed him in his head, was compact, fun-sized, still taller than Changbin, but not by much. He wore a complementing outfit, black hoodie, hat and jeans, unobnoxious trainers, his mask also pulled up. He had puffy, oval-shaped eyes that seemed to loom in his face, but that was all Changbin was able to make out—and all he cared to notice—before he was leaning against a wall, pulling Hoodie Boy to him and cupping him through his pants. “Hi, stranger,” he growled against the guy’s ear.

“Hi, yourself. I didn’t—”

Changbin didn’t let him finish. “Oral? Or do you wanna just fuck?”

A shocked chuckle, half a groan. “You're very forward.”

“I'm sorry, were you here for something else? Maybe we can trade muffin recipes.” The heel of Changbin's hand ground against the half-hard cock trapped in denim.

The strained groan Hoodie Boy let out gave him his answer. “Which do you want?”

Changbin shrugged one shoulder. “I could go for either,” and that seemed to be the right answer, if the eye smile and he got in return and the fingers sneaking along his zipper were anything to go by.

“You bottom?”

“I mean, I can.” An indifferent answer, he knew, but Changbin wasn't picky. Sex was sex.

Another quirk of an eyebrow. Changbin could see a hint of dark curls underneath the cap and hoodie. “You can, but does that mean you wanna?” Hoodie Boy’s voice was smooth, medium, turned against Changbin’s ear. A hint of unusual inflection. An accent?

Changbin huffed out a laugh as his dick was fondled rather bluntly, giving as good as gotten. “Yeah. For you, stranger? I kinda do.”

Another eye smile. “Good.”

The hand left Changbin’s chubbed-up cock and he was unceremoniously shoved chest-first against the wall, his pants dutifully rucked down to about mid-thigh. So much for romance, not that Changbin was even looking for such a thing in a place like this. His ass was smacked and grabbed and he let out an appreciative groan, widening his stance and pushing back against blunt, calloused fingers. A musician, maybe, he thought hazily as he felt the cold wetness of lube slide down his crack. Questing fingers rubbed against his loosened, wet hole and Changbin preened when he heard the guy chuckle behind him. “You came prepared.”

The crinkle and snap of the condom was lost over the throbbing music, but Changbin knew the catch of latex against his skin when he felt it. The dude wasted no time, grabbing his hips and lining up with the sort of efficiency that led Changbin to believe this was not his first gay rodeo. He braced himself with one forearm pressed against the wall and tilted his head back, watching the way long fingers pressed into the flesh of his hipbones, Changbin’s rucked-up hoodie underneath his armpits as he pushed in. Changbin groaned at the sensation of being full once more, letting his head hang forward, reveling in this, the one thing he came out here for. _Oh_ , it burned and stretched and felt _so_ nice. The way the ridge of the dude’s cockhead caught on Changbin's rim as he pulled back had him seeing stars.

His hands gripped Changbin’s hipbones harder, harsher still, and Changbin knew for a fact he would have finger-shaped bruises to poke at the next day. The thought brought a rush of low-lidded pleasure running through his body, and Changbin went limp, slumping back against a firm chest, Hoodie Boy’s free arm snaking around his midsection and holding him flush. He could tell the boy was close, but that was okay because so was he, and he egged him on with his mouth butted firmly against a strong jawline. “Fuck, fuck, yeah, you feel so amazing,” Hoodie Boy let out a stream of profanity that made Changbin, for the first time ever, wish they weren’t wearing masks so he could swallow them up with his mouth. In consolation, he bent forward and fisted his own cock, working his hand in time to the thrusts inside his body. Fingers joined his, letting him lead, and Changbin came a scant handful of seconds later, his come adding to the disgusting mural already painted on the wall and floor before him.

The bruising grip left his hips a moment after, and Hoodie Boy pulled out, making Changbin grimace from the emptiness. He leaned against his forearm, catching his breath for just a moment, giving the guy behind him time to pull his pants up and leave. That was the protocol anyway, but either Hoodie Boy didn’t know the rules, or he just didn’t care, because when Changbin turned around, the boy was still there.

Changbin shot him a curious look as he buttoned his jeans. “Uh, thanks?” he offered, feeling unbalanced. He was pretty sure they’d both gotten off; he’d considered that a successfully completed transaction. What did he want, a handshake? “See you around, man.” Or not. That was usually how these things worked.

“Look,” the man prefaced, grabbing Changbin’s attention from fighting with his belt. “I enjoyed this too much to not do it again. I’ll be here next week if you will. 2am.” Before Changbin could react, the dude saluted him and turned away; Changbin lost him to the crowd and the darkness a moment later. Deciding he had accomplished everything he had gone there to do, Changbin left.

He wasn’t ready to go back to the dorm just yet; he never did go straight back on these rare nights he indulged himself. Changbin walked, used to the route, and thought about the man tonight. Hoodie Boy. He wanted to see Changbin again. Did Changbin want that? He wasn’t sure. He’d had fun; fuck, he’d had a LOT of fun. But he’d never hooked up with the same person twice. Wasn’t that dangerous? If he were to be recognized…

No.

He wasn’t going back next week. He couldn’t. There was too much at stake.

\--

When Changbin got back to the dorm, the common room lights were still on, though the room itself was empty. Changbin could hear the water shut off in the bathroom down the hall.

He entered the bedroom he shared with Chan to find it empty as well; that explained who was in the shower, at least. Changbin shucked off his clothes and shoved them deep in his hamper, making a mental note to do his laundry soon; they smelled vaguely of sweat and sex, and he didn’t want to raise any suspicions. He got dressed in some sweatpants and an old t-shirt of Seungmin’s and plugged his phone in to charge before crawling under his covers, moving over to the wall on habit and leaving the light on for Chan.

He didn’t have to wait long. The door closed with a quiet _snick_ , then it was dark and Changbin’s mattress was dipping. “Can I?” Chan asked quietly.

Changbin looked over at Chan from his prone position on his side. “Why do you always ask?”

Chan was quiet a beat. “In case you ever need to say no.”

Ugh, why did that make his face warm? “Well, I’m not saying no right now. Just sort of a lukewarm ‘meh'.”

“Well, with that enthusiastic response, I guess I can’t refuse.” Changbin could hear the smirk in Chan’s voice. Still, he settled in behind Changbin and pulled the covers over them both. Changbin wiggled backwards until their bodies were flush against one another, one long line. Chan immediately draped his arm over Changbin’s waist, hugging close. He smelled like Felix’s moisturizer and some shampoo he couldn’t place that had an apple scent to it.

“Where’d you run off to tonight?” Chan murmured, breath warm against Changbin’s ear.

Changbin wrapped his own hand around the one hugging his midsection, threading their fingers together. “Nowhere special.”

Chan hummed, and didn’t push the question further. They fell asleep that way, wrapped in each other.

\--

Changbin awoke at dawn when Chan shifted in bed, picking his head up and squinting at his hyung. “I'm gonna head to the studio for a couple hours. Go back to sleep,” Chan ordered gently, a hand heavy and grounding on the back of Changbin's neck for just a moment, squeezing, before Chan was up and changing and leaving. Changbin watched him groggily until the door closed again, then rolled over onto his belly into the still-warm space Chan vacated and did as he was told.

It was normal morning hours when Changbin awoke again. He grabbed his phone and shower caddy and headed into the bathroom before anyone else could claim it and shucked his sleep clothes without much thought.

A twinge of pain reminded him of what he'd gotten up to the night before, and suddenly Changbin was interested in his reflection. He saw with satisfaction a quintet of oval-shaped bruises on either side of his hipbones; he traced them with his fingertips delicately before jabbing at them, hard. The pain felt good, made the memory of last night all the more real in his mind, and Changbin smirked at his reflection before turning to open the shower door.

\--

Chan was doing that thing again, the thing he did with his hand whenever he had a pen in it. Flicking it back and forth, twirling it between his fingers, tapping it against his mouth; he could never stay still. A lot of times he ended up chewing on the ends of them. It never _used_ to bother Changbin.

They were in a meeting with the managers, just him, Chan, and Jisung, and he could not concentrate on anything being said. He was fixated on Chan's veiny hand, his fingers, his mouth… he’d never had this problem to this degree before and it was freaking him out. He tried turning in his chair so Chan was only in his periphery, but then Chan would say something and Changbin’s attention was zeroed back in.

Changbin admired Chan's body, there was no denying that; where Changbin's thick muscles curved gently Chan was all sharp edges and taut, veiny skin. For a long time Changbin thought he envied Chan's physique. There was a brief period where Chan's body only gave Changbin anxiety because no matter what he did, how much he worked out, he could never achieve the magazine-cover-worthy body Chan had. He’d been a string bean all his life, and even when he did start to bulk up, he still didn't look a thing like his hyung. Nothing he did felt right until he realized that he didn't _want_ to look like Chan, and that he was actually pretty happy with his body, even without the six pack.

No, Changbin didn't want to have Chan’s body. At least, not in that way.

Of course he knew objectively that Chan was good looking. You sort of had to be to make it as an idol. Talent could only get you so far. All of the members were at least considered good-looking, some of them surpassing that bar by quite a lot. Not Changbin, despite all the jokes he knew his place, but Hyunjin, Felix, Minho… they were stunning, everyone could see that.

Changbin had always put Chan in that category, too. But it wasn't until he'd resolved his own self image issues that he realized he maybe spent too much time obsessing over his bandmate's body. And now it seemed like it was getting worse because it was interfering with his job. Changbin couldn't have that.

He realized he was still staring when Chan caught his eye and gave him his signature goofy smile in return. Changbin stiffened in his seat and faced forward again. He forced himself not to look at Chan the rest of the meeting.

\--

The next Saturday dawned cold and grey, with snowflakes teasing the air but nothing much accumulating on the ground. It put most of the members in a foul mood—it was just enough to make the roads slick and delay their schedule (plus they wanted to go play in the snow, dammit)—but all Changbin could think about was Hoodie Boy.

Was he serious about meeting up again? If so, could Changbin even risk it? There was no question if he wanted to; he had not thought of anything but since that night. The way he’d been manhandled, the rough way the man had gripped his hips; the bruises were only just now yellowing out, Changbin’s skin tended to hold onto memories like that for longer than most. Changbin wondered if they met up for a second go around if it would be hard like last time, or would it be softer? Changbin himself oscillated both ways, most of the time leaning toward the harder, rougher stuff. Occasionally, however, he found himself in the mood to be petted and treated sweetly. It was a fantasy he knew he’d have to hold onto for a later date when he could do more than just get fucked in the back rooms of sordid clubs.

“Changbin.”

Changbin looked up from his phone, having not paid a whit of attention to know his screen had gone dark ages ago. He looked up at Chan, who stood before him with a piece of cake on a plate held out before him. He was freshly showered, his dark hair extra curly and his sweatshirt large and nearly overtaking his hands. He looked soft and inviting, fuckable and somehow untouchably beautiful all at once. “Do you want?”

Changbin’s mouth went dry. “Yeah,” he croaked out, a hoarse whisper before clearing his throat. “I mean, sure. What flavor?”

“Almond. Your favorite.” Chan’s eye smile was so stupidly distracting Changbin almost missed what he said.

“For real? Who bought that?” Changbin accepted the plate from Chan and dug in, wiggling happily in his seat in anticipation. The first bite did not disappoint.

“No one. I found a recipe and decided to try my hand at it. I’m not the best at baking,” Chan laughed, looking a little embarrassed. “Minho helped. I think he just wanted to make sure it was going to be edible.”

“It’s great, hyung,” Changbin said around a mouthful of cake, beaming up at him before swallowing. “Seriously. It’s so good. I want this for my next birthday, okay?”

Chan laughed fully at that, head thrown back, dimples on full display. “Okay, Binnie.” He reached out and ran a hand through Changbin’s hair, smoothing it, his palm so large and warm against his scalp that Changbin had a difficult time not leaning in. “Anyway, glad you’re enjoying it.”

When he left, taking his warmth with him, Changbin was left with the cloying taste of almonds and sugar in his mouth, and a want so deep he could hardly stand it.

He was going to the club.

\--

The second time they met, Hoodie Boy tried to lure Changbin onto the dance floor. Changbin, who’d attended enough dance practices to fuel a lifetime, could think of nothing he’d rather not do, but somehow, even with only his large, brown eyes showing, the man managed to be so charismatic and persuasive that Changbin found himself on the dance floor with little coaxing. It was a hot press of bodies; though it was winter outside, it was sweltering there in the middle of everything. The music was so much louder on the dance floor that only the bass could really be heard, and Changbin was almost wishing he had his in-ear with him just to muffle the sound.

Hoodie Boy had a possessive hold on his hip, and they weren’t so much dancing as grinding against each other, Changbin’s ass cradled in the pocket of the other man’s hips as he used the sexiest moves he could remember learning from Minho on his hookup. He felt like an overgrown kid out there, ham-fisted instead of delicate, awkward as all hell, but at the same time he could feel the way the man behind him seemed to be enjoying himself, so Changbin supposed he was doing alright. But he could feel the awkwardness lacing through every move he made, so he cut his losses and pushed Hoodie Boy toward the back room, where he could show off what his body could _really_ do.

This time they parted ways outside the club, standing awkwardly at the taxi stand trying not to make eye contact. The music was still spilling from the club, the bass accentuating Changbin’s heart threading in his chest, high and fast, mixing with the alcohol he could still feel thrumming through his system. He wondered if he could ever dare to do this completely sober.

“Anyway,” Hoodie Boy finally broke the silence. “Same time? Next week?” he asked, sounding hopeful, again with that slight accent Changbin felt like he knew but couldn’t place where.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Are you headed home?”

Changbin gave the guy a weird look. Was he wanting an invite back? Had they progressed that far? Not that Changbin could even entertain the thought of bringing someone back to the dorm. “Uh, no. Not yet.”

Hoodie Boy cocked his head, amusement plain in his puffy eyes. “What, got somewhere else to be? Out for a nighttime stroll?”

“Something like that.” Changbin hiked a thumb behind himself, not in the direction of the dorms. He could feel the confusion coming off the other man in waves, and it made his skin itch for whatever reason. “I’m gonna… yeah. I’m gonna go. Bye.”

“Can I walk with you? For a little bit?” _Can I get to know you_ , he might as well have said. But no, he couldn’t. Changbin couldn’t risk that.

“We ain’t there yet, stranger.” He smiled a little, regretful, but it was covered by his mask. “Maybe another time.”

He resolutely did not look back as he walked away from the club, heart threading higher and higher.

On the walk home, Changbin wondered if he shouldn’t get Hoodie Boy’s number, or if that was too risky. He at least wanted to put a name to the guy who’s dick made him see stars, but he knew if he asked he’d have to give one in return. He could always give a fake name, but that seemed disingenuous. Changbin supposed this was how it had to be. The thought didn’t make him feel very good.

\--

“Changbin-hyung!”

Changbin looked up from where he was opening a bag of honey butter chips to see Felix breezing into the kitchen, looking soft in his oversized shirt and pajama bottoms. The pantlegs pooled at his feet, bare toes peeking out and Changbin cooed at the sight. “Yongbokkie, you look like a vending machine plushie,” he teased, reaching out and fluffing Felix's candy pink hair.

Felix chuckled and clung to Changbin's back, resting his head on his shoulder. He was silent for so long Changbin thought he might have fallen asleep on him. Wouldn't have been the first time.

So he was caught completely unawares when suddenly Felix snatched the bag of chips out of his hands before Changbin could protest. Squawking indignantly, Changbin chased him around the kitchen and through the door. He managed to tackle Felix right in the entryway into the common room, both of them tumbling into a giggling pile of limbs. Changbin sat on Felix's stomach and grabbed the bag of chips, holding them aloft as he shouted out his victory—prematurely, as Felix managed in Changbin's distraction to roll them over, climbing over Changbin and clawing up his arm to snatch them back. “Hey!” Changbin protested loudly, struggling against his dongsaeng to recover his rightful bounty.

“You two are having fun? I guess?” came a voice from the couch, distracting Changbin from his goal just long enough for Felix to leap away with his hard-won chips.

“Hyuuuung,” Changbin whined, staring forlornly where Felix had disappeared toward the bedrooms.

Chan chuckled. “Oh, shut it, I've got some sweet potato chips over here I'll share with you if you're nice.”

“Chan-hyung, has anyone told you that you and my grandfather share the same taste buds?”

“Fine, no chips for you, then,” Chan sniffed.

“No, wait!” Changbin fell on the couch next to Chan, putting his head on his shoulder and batting his eyelashes up at him. “Hyung has very young taste buds. Your taste buds haven't even graduated elementary school.”

Chan frowned. “I don't think that's any better.” Still, he fed Changbin a chip when he opened his mouth for one with a little pout. They sat like that for a few moments, Chan taking turns feeding them both and watching whatever drama Hyunjin had left on. Occasionally Chan's fingers brushed his lips, and Changbin would be lying if he said it didn't affect him. There was something heady and delicate about the moment, just the two of them, Changbin’s head on Chan’s shoulder. He curled up as small as he dared, twisting so he could rub his nose against Chan’s soft sweater, earning him a chuckle. “Cute,” Chan muttered quietly.

“Am I bothering hyung?” Changbin asked cutely, pouting.

“You? No, you could _never_ bother me,” Chan cooed, flicking the tip of Changbin’s nose. “You’re just _baby_. Baby Changbin.”

Changbin flushed at the praise. Though he knew they were just joking around there was something about it he really liked, something that made him squirm. Chan punctuated the sentiment with fingers threading through Changbin’s hair, making Changbin close his eyes in contentment. “In all seriousness, though? This is kinda nice.”

Chan hummed but had no other response, and when Changbin looked up at his face he appeared serene. Chan smiled down at him, something small and very, very fond, before his gaze dropped to Changbin’s mouth. “Oh, you have—” Chan’s thumb brushed along Changbin’s lower lip, dislodging a couple crumbs there, and Changbin’s pulse quickened. They stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime; Changbin watched Chan’s tongue peek out and wet his lower lip and Changbin felt something familiar yet at the same time not: a deep set hunger, something that felt so foreign to him here in the dorm. This was a feeling he reserved for the club, and his Hoodie Boy. He was so tempted to lean up and press his mouth to Chan's… it would have been so easy…

“Changbin.” Chan’s voice sounded _wrecked_ , heavy. A mirror.

“Hyung,” called a voice from down the hall. They sprung apart just in time, guiltily; Seungmin appeared in the doorway a moment later with Changbin’s absconded honey butter chips. “I got your bag of chips back because I am a good person and it was the right thing to do, not at all because I like you or anything,” he intoned, coming over and plonking the chips right onto Changbin’s lap. “Ooh, sweet potato,” he scooped up Chan’s chip bag from his limp, shocked fingers and left as succinctly as he came.

Changbin’s face burned. He refused to look at Chan, which seemed just fine because Chan wasn't looking at him. Instead, he yelled after Seungmin, “What are you, eighty!?”

“Yes!” Seungmin shouted from the hallway.

\--

The third time he saw Hoodie Boy, Changbin was worked up beyond measure. He pushed the man back against the wall and dropped to his knees, tucking his mask under his chin. Keeping the brim of his hat low and his head tilted down, he worked open the man's fly, jacking his soft cock until it stood up proudly, tip glistening with precome Changbin longed to taste. But he dared not.

Sliding a cherry-flavored condom on his dick, Changbin was sucking him down in the same breath. The cherry mixed badly with the alcohol already on his breath, but Changbin didn’t care. He’d been fantasizing about doing just this, letting his mind wander during breaks between dance practices and when he should have been writing lyrics. He sank his mouth down with little preamble, taking the dude’s dick like he’d never even heard of a gag reflex, his fingers circling the base. He felt more than heard the string of profanities the guy let out above him, and he felt a hand rest upon his head, fingers curling against the material of his hat. When those same fingers went to pry his hat off—Changbin assumed so the man could tug at his hair—Changbin stopped him with a grip around his wrist, shaking his head ever so minutely before licking a stripe up his dick. Instead, he moved the guy’s hand to the back of his neck as he relaxed his jaw. Seeming to pick up what Changbin was putting down, the hand tightened on his neck, and Changbin braced himself with one hand clenched on the dude’s thigh and the other gripped in his hoodie—the same one Hoodie Boy always wore, Changbin noticed—as his mouth was thoroughly fucked. Changbin closed his eyes, sighed through his nose and reveled in it.

There was something to giving up control sometimes, to letting someone else take over in making all the decisions. It was what he liked best about his partnership with Chan in 3racha; Chan was always there whenever Changbin was stuck in a song. He and Han might have been lyrical geniuses, but they were nothing without the guiding hand of Bang Chan. This was similar in the way that Changbin could infer what he wanted, and Hoodie Boy just knew where to take it. Hoodie Boy thrusted relentlessly, Changbin’s saliva drooling out of the corners of his mouth, his tongue pliant against the shaft filling him up so good, the tip hitting the soft palate at the back of his throat. It was everything Changbin wanted, neatly wrapped up in a package and placed before him with just the right amount of brutality. Changbin was going to feel it the next morning. He couldn’t wait.

Just when his jaw was starting to ache a little too much, Hoodie Boy pulled Changbin off of him, rough, calloused fingers tight around his wrist, and one-armed shoved Changbin against the wall. He helped Changbin undo his pants and Changbin braced himself; soon enough he was sighing for a different reason, his hips pulled back and his hole stretched with cock.

The hands that gripped him were veiny, and Changbin's mind was dragged back to that meeting in the conference room. God, _Chan_. More importantly, Chan's hands. The similarity between them had Changbin throbbing, whimpering. For a handful of moments, Changbin imagined it was Chan behind him, Chan buried so _fucking_ deep Changbin was sobbing.

Changbin didn’t even bother censoring himself, letting the man behind him know how much he appreciated the cock in his ass. “More,” he panted thickly against the guy’s neck, his ear, the brim of Changbin’s hat pushed against skin that smelled of salt and beer, a request that could have meant anything, but somehow his Hoodie Boy knew what to do. Changbin was pressed so perfectly against the wall, sandwiched between it and the hard body behind him, rutting sharply into him. “Make me come, I need it, _please_ , _Chan_ ,” he nearly cried at the ruthless pace that had been set, knowing it was going to be over far too soon. Hoodie Boy closed a fist over his cock and that was it. Changbin was coming.

It wasn’t until after he had done so, dripping over rough, blunt fingers onto the floor, and the guy had whispered into his ear, “I love being with you like this. Same time next week?” and pulled away that Changbin realized two things: the man behind him was _not_ Chan, and Changbin had never pulled his mask back up. He frowned as he situated it back up over his nose, the realization coming to his buzzed, fucked-out brain in waves. The guy hadn’t said anything, hadn’t let on any recognition, but still. The thought of being found out, of the media getting wind that an idol, even a minor one such as him, was in a place like this made his blood run cold in his veins.

Beginning to feel panicked, Changbin fled.

He decided not to go back to the dorm that night; his blood was racing through his veins, there was no way he was getting to sleep any time soon. He stopped in front of the studio door and fumbled with a key he hardly ever used, but the lights inside were dark for once.

Not bothering to turn them on, Changbin felt his way to the futon couch in the corner and fell on it. He threw off his mask, hat and hoodie, running his hands through his hair and trying to still his whirling thoughts. He’d had time during the twenty-minute walk to sober up and think about the gravity of the situation. Why had he slipped up like that? What if Hoodie Boy had recognized him? There was no way he could go back now, at least not for a while. This wasn’t getting a smoothie with a friend. This was a real and true potential _scandal_.

He didn’t know when he started crying, but the tears were soaking his pants as he curled in on himself, arms clasped tightly around his bent knees. Soon he was sobbing, releasing the tension built up inside him in the only way he knew how right then. He tried telling himself over and over that it wasn’t a big deal, that no one saw, but he couldn’t be sure and it was that anxiety that was sending his heart racing.

“You’re a fuck up, Seo Changbin,” he whispered into the dark. When it didn’t answer, he grit his teeth, turning into the couch and pummeling the cushions with his fists. “You’re a fuck up, Seo Changbin, and you’re going to ruin it for everyone!”

His phone chiming an incoming message pulled him from his fury. He fumbled for his hoodie pocket and yanked it out, looking at the screen blearily.

**_Channie-hyung_ ** _: where r u_

Changbin wiped at his face, gulping down air as he tried to calm himself down. His thumbs didn't want to cooperate so it took him a moment to reply.

**_Changbin_ ** _: at the studio_

**_Channie-hyung_ ** _: ok but try to get some sleep_

Changbin choked out a wet laugh at that.

**_Changbin_ ** _: says you_

**_Channie-hyung_ ** _: says our mid morning schedule. srsly tho_

Changbin felt his lower lip quiver and he sucked in a tremulous breath. He could feel the concern from Chan and it was almost enough to send him to tears all over again. Instead, he wiped his eyes and nose on his jacket and steeled his resolve. He was worrying Chan enough, he had to stop this foolishness. If he had been lucky and Hoodie Boy hadn't recognized him, then that was it, he'd used up all his luck then and there and he couldn't take any more chances. And if he had, well, then Changbin was just going to have to put on his big boy pants and fucking deal with the situation, wasn’t he?

**_Changbin_ ** _: I'm good hyung. I got this._

\--

The next day, Changbin waited for the guillotine to fall but it never did. Not the next day, or the day after that, and by Wednesday Changbin was starting to think he had gotten away scott free.

He and Chan never really got a chance to talk, either, but Changbin could feel the weight of his gaze throughout their numerous schedules. They were rehearsing in earnest for an upcoming world tour and every minute was precious little time they didn't have.

Surprisingly, nothing came together for Changbin until the day he saw Hyunjin wearing a _remarkably_ _familiar_ hoodie at breakfast one morning. The Vetements logo emblazoned along the back had Changbin stopping in his tracks, feeling his two worlds that were never supposed to meet colliding in real time. He felt both doused in ice water and lit on fire all at once. Maybe… no, it was a very common hoodie. Fuck, he was pretty sure he had something similar in his own closet. Surely, it couldn’t be the same one. That would be impossible.

“Hyunjinnie,” his voice sounded like the sandpaper his throat felt. He reached out and tugged at one of the sleeves. “This new? I’ve never seen you wear it before.” He hoped.

“Ah?” Hyunjin looked down himself. “No, I think I found this in Chan’s laundry.”

Changbin took a measured breath to keep from panicking, trying his best for all the world to look as unaffected as he absolutely did not _fucking_ feel. “Chan’s? You sure? I don’t think I’ve seen him wear it, either.” His voice cracked. Fuck.

Hyunjin shrugged. “It was in his basket.” He gave Changbin a look that said he was being weird before picking up his cereal bowl and putting it in the sink. “I didn’t steal it from your closet, hyung, don’t worry,” he teased before walking out of the kitchen.

Changbin needed to leave. He needed to leave, and be alone, and process everything. Chan? No. No way. There was no fucking way _Chan_ was fucking him in a seedy club back room, he was too wholesome for that. Too boy scout. Changbin thought back to that first night, when he came back to the dorm and Chan cuddled him to sleep in his own bed. Why else would Chan have been showing at three in the morning? By then a low level of panic was threatening to crawl up Changbin's throat and choke him. He needed somewhere to think, somewhere that was _safe_ —

Lost in his own panicked thoughts, Changbin entered the bedroom he shared with Chan without thinking much about where he was going and came face to face with the very man he was panicking about. He stopped dead in his tracks at the doorway.

Chan glanced over at him from where he was laying with his phone in his hand, airpods in his ears, looking more worn around the edges than usual. The circles under his always kind, puffy eyes were more pronounced and the exhaustion they all felt sat on his shoulders like a cloak. His curly hair, dark for a rare moment, was in a complete birds nest disarray on top of his head, mocking Changbin. The signs were all there. How had he not seen a single one of them?

Chan did a double take at Changbin’s expression, pulling out a bud, concern etched deeply across his face. “Binnie?” His voice was soft, medium, accented. Changbin had heard it a million times, a million different ways; singing, rapping, whooping in joy, shouting in anger, thick with tears, and now. Now he could add another sound to his collection. The way Chan sounded when he was about to come. Because Changbin knew. He _knew_. It was Chan. It had always been goofy, loving, vicious Chan. How could he have not known? How could he have been so _stupid_?

It took him three tries to make his voice work, and when he did it still sounded rusty. “Hyunjinnie stole your hoodie. I think.”

Chan’s look of concern melted into one of haggard amusement. “And? You into tattling, Bin? Everyone steals everyone’s clothes around here, you know that. No one owns anything in this dorm free and clear. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s Felix’s,” he gestured at Changbin’s sweatshirt.

“Ah.” Changbin couldn’t help it, his voice cracked. “You’re right, hyung. Sorry for bringing it up.”

Chan gave him an odd look, Changbin’s second that morning. “Are you feeling okay? You’re being weirder than usual.”

That snapped Changbin out of his thoughts. He scoffed. “I’m not, fuck off. You’re the weird one.”

Changbin didn’t miss the look of utter fondness that flitted across Chan’s face before it settled on something he was more used to seeing: exasperation. “Okay, then. Don’t ever apologize again, that’s not you and it’s freaking me out.”

Changbin huffed out a laugh, the tension easing a little in his shoulders. Chan didn’t know. That was something, at least. “Aye, aye, captain,” Changbin saluted Chan and turned to leave.

“Changbin, wait.”

Changbin looked over. “Yes, hyung?”

For a moment they just stared at each other and it didn't look like Chan was going to say anything at all. “Channie?” Changbin prompted.

“You would tell me if there was something wrong, right?”

Changbin's gaze slid off of Chan like water off a duck’s back. “Sure. Of course I would.”

\--

Saturday night came and went. Changbin didn’t go to the club.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone that read, an extra thanks to those that kudo'd or bookmarked. I am thrilled beyond measure, y'all.
> 
> Here is Chan's chapter. As promised.
> 
> ALSO sorry to everyone that got multiple notifications about this chapter. I'm still new to posting on AO3 and working through the bugs.
> 
> Enjoy!

Chan had had such a shit day, and he knew he needed to blow off a little steam. BamBam had texted him earlier; the group was in town for the next few weeks, and he wanted to know if Chan wanted to go get drinks, maybe, or perhaps something _else_. It was exactly the push Chan needed.

They didn’t have a history, but BamBam was one of the few who knew about Chan’s sexuality. He had introduced Chan to these clubs, the kind where you didn’t have to hide what you were. It was one of the few places Chan felt free; in the studio, on the stage, in the dorm with his members (to a degree, he was only out to Jisung, Changbin and Felix), and here. 

He and BamBam were in the back of the club, relaxing with a couple of beers and catching up. Nights like these were a rare luxury, even if Chan didn’t hook up tonight he was happy to let go for a little bit and just be himself. Not to say he wouldn’t have minded a little company tonight, particularly of the buff and male and _interested_ kind, but this was nice, too.

And then he saw him.

Chan’s eyes widened when they landed on the figure at the bar. Impossibly broad shoulders on a compact body, accentuated by the pushed-up sleeves of his zip-up—hell, Chan had been the one to give him that black leather hat for his birthday last year. Who did Changbin think he was fooling? Alarm flashed through Chan for a hot second, before—

“You’ve already found a target, hmm? He’s fit,” BamBam hummed next to him, drink to his lips.

Chan stared at him, dumbfounded. “You don’t know who that is?”

BamBam squinted and shook his head. “No, I don’t recognize him. Should I?”

Chan glanced back over at the figure, watched him down a shot. His profile was so familiar to Chan, but then of course it would be. The disguise Changbin wore—hat, hoodie, mask, the same as Chan—would have worked against anyone else, anyone who hadn't spent years living together, sweating together, literally in each other's pocket on the daily. Yes, Chan relented, it was an okay disguise, for anyone other than him.

“You going in?”

Chan tongued the lip of his beer bottle in consideration, watching Changbin converse with the bartender. The initial shock at seeing his teammate, one of his best friends, here was starting to wear off. This wasn't an ambiguous club. The people who came here came for one reason only: to get fucked, judgement-free. It wasn't an easy place to find, either, and it had a reputation for being discreet, so there was no doubt in Chan's mind that Changbin's presence there was deliberate. The thought caused an unprecedented thrill to run up his spine. Could he?

Really, _could_ _he_?

Chan couldn't deny that he found Changbin attractive, and that his dongsaeng had featured in a few of his dirtier fantasies. Thought about what it would feel like to have that small, plush mouth go down on him every time Changbin worried on his bottom lip in concentration during their studio sessions. Thought about what his serious eyes would look like clouded over with desire. And those _arms_ , God, they featured heavily. The thought of being held down, _really_ held down, unable to move, just enough slack so Chan could wiggle but not break free; or even the opposite, Chan pinning Changbin down, holding power over him knowing Changbin could break his hold at any given time yet giving up control willingly… _holy_ _fuck_.

It was such a _bad_ idea, but that seemed to be the theme for the night, didn't it? Chan was so tempted… but at the same time hesitant. What would this do to their friendship? Would things be weird? Chan had done friends with benefits before, and it had worked out alright. But never with someone he was this close to.

_Really, could he?_

Before he could even make up his mind, he'd caught Changbin's eye across the bar. The stare he got in return sent chills down his spine, as if Changbin had taken the measure of him and Chan had come up lacking. Changbin's only acknowledgement was a slight nod before he started moving toward the back room. Not an amateur to the scene, it seemed. Chan ditched his beer and scrambled to catch up, waving back at BamBam, who only laughed and waved him on.

When they met for the first time in that back room, Chan opened his mouth to speak. What exactly he was going to say remained a mystery even to him because Changbin then pulled Chan to him and growled in his ear before he could say anything at all. “ _Hey, stranger._ ”

And God, when he pressed the heel of his palm against his dick it was better than any thought, any fantasy Chan had ever dreamed.

And when Chan felt how loose and ready Changbin was, all doubts were completely erased. It was insanely hot how easily Chan breached Changbin’s hole, sinking inside to the first knuckle with hardly any resistance. He thought about Changbin back in their dorm’s bathroom, possibly, fingering himself open in anticipation for this moment, for _Chan_ , and that amplified his thirst tenfold. He longed to kiss down the nape of Changbin's neck—but it was too risky, even in the darkness of the club, so the mask stayed on. The thought of hyper masculine Changbin more than willing and able to take Chan’s cock just ramped up his arousal; he wasted no time in sinking himself in hilt deep.

Changbin was stoic in front of him, but Chan could tell he was enjoying himself, if the way he was jerking himself off in time to Chan’s thrusts was anything to go by. Still, Chan wanted to be the source of all of Changbin’s pleasure, and leaned in to close his hand over Changbin’s on his cock. He couldn’t see much, but what he could feel was smooth and thick, much like Changbin himself. God, if only he could have gotten him alone in a room and they could have taken their time. Chan could have _ruined_ Changbin. Or Changbin could ruin him; Chan wasn’t picky.

Before it was all over, Chan knew he needed this to happen again. He quickly ran through their upcoming schedule as he watched Changbin pull up his pants and readjusted his clothing. Their schedule was going to ramp up soon with rehearsals, but for the moment it was at a steady, tolerable level. They were free this time next week. They could meet again, if they wanted.

Chan wanted.

But he didn’t want to pressure Changbin. Maybe this was the start of something new. Maybe this was a one-time thing. Chan didn’t know. He left the ball in Changbin’s court, however, feeling that that was at least fair. If he showed, great, if not… well, at least Chan had tonight.

“Did you have fun?” BamBam asked when they met back up. Chan didn’t respond, but he knew his face was telling on him when BamBam laughed, deep and from the belly. “I knew it!” He clapped Chan laudatorily on the back before herding him toward the exit and BamBam’s car. “Come on, let’s get you back before your whole group falls apart without you, Mr. Leader.”

\--

Chan saw more than heard Jisung enter the studio, the reflection of his white beanie catching in the glare of the computer monitor. He swung around in his chair to greet him, feeling a smile stretch his face. It must have been a wide one because Jisung paused with his iced Americano halfway to his mouth to give him a weird look. “You look rested. For once.”

Chan shrugged one shoulder, accepting the sugar free hot chocolate Ji held out for him and taking a sip first. “Got about three hours.”

“Must have been an exceptionally restful three hours,” Jisung commented dubiously. Chan’s mind flashed back on what he had gotten up to the night before (not to mention who he had left warm and pliant in bed) and knew the look on his face was dumb and fond. He smiled down at the console.

“Best I’ve gotten in a while.”

\--

A groan cut through Chan’s headphones feed, distracting him from the bridge of the song he’d been slaving away at for an hour now with no progress. Why was it songs could come together in literal minutes, but when he tried to perfect them his brain just stalled out? It was immensely frustrating.

He glanced over as the mattress he was laying on was jostled, a weight by the name of Seo Changbin draping itself lengthwise over him. He pulled his headphones down to his neck, feeling a tiny pocket of irritation forming between his brows. “What is it?”

“Hyung, you've been working at that for too long and I'm hungry. You promised we'd go get dinner an hour ago.” Changbin gave Chan his best pout, he could tell, and poked at Chan's cheek lightly for emphasis. His voice was dangerously close to dropping into _aegyo_ territory. Chan could already feel his mouth twitching upwards. “Channie-hyung doesn't want Binnie Binnie to waste away to nothing, does he?” Ah, there it was.

Chan feigned a cringe and swatted at Changbin with his notebook. “Get off me! You're in no more danger of wasting away than I am of finishing this song.” He reached back and pinched Changbin's side for emphasis.

Changbin yelped and rolled off onto the mattress, before draping an arm back over Chan's shoulder and tucking himself against his side, molding himself to Chan’s body. Chan took a slow, deep breath, inhaling the scent of Changbin's shampoo and their shared laundry detergent. “Seriously, though.” Changbin gestured at the laptop, Cubase still running. “If that hasn't worked itself out by now then you're probably better off coming back to it another time. I know your perfectionist ass doesn't want to let it go,” he rolled his eyes at Chan's dramatic whine, “but maybe Hannie might have better luck with it. Give it a rest for now.” He squeezed Chan’s shoulder. “Okay? Come get jjajangmyeon with me and Hyunjinnie.” Changbin dropped his head and gave Chan his best puppy eyes, lips pushed up in a pout. “Do it for Binnie Binnie?”

As if Chan could ever resist Changbin, even when he was talking in that ridiculous voice that he did not find endearing _at_ _all_. Chan made a face before shutting the laptop. “Uggghhh, _fine_. Maybe you're right. I said _maybe_!” he shouted over Changbin’s victory cry.

Changbin climbed over Chan and slapped his ass for emphasis before jogging out of the room. “Hyunjin-ah, I got him! Let's go, I'm _starving_!”

\--

“You know what we should do Saturday night after practice?” Hyunjin exclaimed around a mouthful of noodles. It took Chan a moment to decipher what exactly Hyunjin had said, and when he did he cocked his head.

“No, what? Please swallow before answering.”

Hyunjin flailed. “Movie night! Seungmin and I can go to the store and get snacks, we can poll what movie to pick in the group chat, it’ll be a lot of fun!”

Chan twirled his chopsticks, looking down at his food. “That does sound like fun, Hyunjinnie,” he smiled over at him. “But I, uh, have a prior commitment that night.” He risked a glance over at Changbin, but he was giving nothing away, absorbed in his meal.

Hyunjin pouted. “Aww, hyung. What about you, Changbinnie-hyung? Are you down?” He batted his eyelashes at his hyung, which was useless because Changbin never once looked up from his noodles.

Changbin swallowed and shook his head. “Sorry, brat. I gotta be somewhere, too.”

Hyunjin pouted, face screwed up. “You guys are no fun. I’m gonna ask Minho-hyung.”

Changbin smirked, but it was the blush high on Changbin’s cheekbones that had Chan grinning.

\--

Chan knew he was staring but he couldn’t help it. Changbin was completely drenched in sweat after three solid hours of dance practice, and it was simultaneously gross and yet incredibly attractive. His shirt stuck to his shoulders and lower back and Chan wanted to peel it from his body with his teeth and lick all the salt off his skin. Though they’d fucked, Chan hadn’t really gotten a good look at Changbin under his clothes. He had seen him naked before, sure, that happened when you shared a bedroom. But he hadn’t been paying attention back then. He was paying attention now.

“Hey, stranger,” Chan said, coming up behind Changbin, who startled kind of badly.

“ _What_? Oh,” Changbin gave Chan a weird look, but accepted the towel Chan was holding out and mopped his neck and face with it. His hair was pushed back from his face, transforming the shape of it and Chan wanted to cup it in his hands. “Hey, yourself… stranger. Thanks.”

“You should get some water. You look kinda rough.” Chan held out his own Hydro Flask, half-full, and watched with satisfaction as Changbin tipped it back and gulped the rest down, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

Changbin wiped his mouth on his forearm and gave Chan back the bottle. “Well, don’t you just know how to sweet-talk a boy?” He fluttered his lashes at him, eyes wide, hands pressed against one cheek. It was absurd. Chan could feel himself leaning toward Changbin, a sunflower and the sun.

“ _Urgh_ , hyuuuung,” Jeongin whined, passing by and giving them both a look of complete disgust. “Don’t do _aegyo_ here, we’re about to eat lunch and I want to keep my appetite.”

“Hey! Don’t talk to your elders that way!” Jeongin turned and stuck his tongue out at Changbin before giggling and running away. “Get back here!” Changbin chased after Jeongin, sweeping away from the room with the rest of the members, leaving Chan alone in the practice room.

He held the empty bottle up to his mouth and lightly ran the opening of it along his lower lip. He laughed. Oh God, an indirect kiss. What next? Was one of them going to hit their head and get temporary amnesia? Was a mail order bride about to show up and ruin all their carefully made plans? Chan shook his head at himself and grabbed his bag before following his team out the door. He was being ridiculous.

\--

Chan could admit that the second time he hooked up with Changbin definitely started out as his favorite. It had taken him a minute, but when he’d finally gotten Changbin out on the dance floor—well, he never knew he could be so turned on and about to choke from laughter at the same time.

The thing is, Chan knew Changbin could do sexy. Fuck, every day Changbin did something Chan would describe as sexy, whether it was the way he picked up the kettle bell so effortlessly or how he stirred his tea. The early morning bedhead, the way he bobbed his head as he mouthed thought-up lyrics to the brand-new track Chan was showing him. Hell, how he sat in a _chair_ was even sexy, for fuck’s sake. And Chan (and the fans) knew for a fact Changbin could dance sexy, all the thirst comments he’d seen under fancams were proof of that. Changbin could dance hella sexy. If the moves were laid out for him.

But when he got inside his own head and tried too hard to be something other than himself, well. Chan had a hard time keeping a straight face at Changbin’s best impression of Minho, and he was extremely thankful for the loud bass as it covered up a bark of laughter he couldn’t control for the life of him. Changbin’s tiny little ass wiggle was definitely not something he was likely to forget anytime soon.

However, when Changbin had had enough and managed to push Chan into the back room, Chan was reminded of just how fucking sexy Seo Changbin could be. He was lithe and grace in his own uniquely Changbin way, rolling back on Chan’s cock like he was made to do it, as if he had practiced dozens of times on a dildo suction cupped to the shower wall (Chan guessed. He’d seen the dildo, once, when he went looking for a spare set of earbuds Changbin lent him. It was in a plain black box and Chan had no idea what it was until he opened it. It wasn’t tiny).

Chan was used to doing all the work and controlling the pace, but Changbin made him stand with his hands behind his back, made him promise not to touch, and undulated his hips in a way that Chan didn’t even know Changbin was capable of, milking his dick and making the most obscene sounds while he did it. It was the single hottest thing Chan had ever seen in his life. It took a while to work Chan up to his orgasm, but when he did, he’d never come so hard.

Afterward, outside, however, Chan was confused. Changbin was aloof, almost cold. Walking away from him. Walking away from the dorms.

“Can I join you?”

“We ain’t like that yet, stranger. Maybe another time.” Changbin wasn’t ready. Okay. Chan could respect that. Besides, it wasn’t like—they weren’t—no, it was just—of course. Of course.

Of course.

Chan turned and headed home.

\--

That next week, Changbin consumed all of Chan's spare time. It wasn't like he had a lot of down time to begin with, but what little he did was occupied with Changbin. When they managed to make it to the dorms for a few hours of sleep, they curled up in each other's beds (mainly because the other one would be stacked with equipment or clothes or both). A lot of the times they ended up slumped over each other on the studio futon, Jisung curled in as a comfortable third, waking up giggling over gross morning breath and bedhead. It wasn't much different from how things had always been, but there were subtle things that seemed to make everything new and exciting. The lingering touches. The glances between just the two of them. The small smile Chan could swear he'd never seen on Changbin’s face before. The way Changbin could get his pulse racing just by putting his head on his shoulder. The softness of his mouth under Chan’s thumb as he brushed crumbs from it.

And even when Changbin wasn't around he still consumed Chan's thoughts. If he wasn't thinking about the group, or the music, or the next stage, or the tour, or their next step, Chan was daydreaming, thinking back to the club, remembering how Changbin felt, how he _looked_.

Chan had done friends with benefits before, but not like this. He'd never developed… a crush. He didn't know how to handle his mounting feelings, he didn't know if Changbin felt the same way. For the first in a really long time, Chan didn't know what his next move was going to be. It was off-putting, to say the least. And maybe just a tiny bit exhilarating.

If Changbin wasn’t there yet, though, Chan was willing to wait.

\--

The third time was _definitely_ Chan’s favorite. Chan had been running a little late; their activities had ramped up in anticipation for a series of players they were about to drop, not to mention the tour. Chan had been pulled aside by the managers to go over a few last-minute decisions and had lost track of time. He entered the club with an apology on his lips but couldn't find Changbin anywhere. When he finally tracked him down in the back room, Changbin didn't give him a chance to say or do anything. He took total control, pushing Chan back and manhandling him and _oh_ _fuck_ _it_ _was_ so _hot_. Chan melted into Changbin's touch, happy to do or be whatever Changbin wanted right then. And when Changbin went down on him—

Chan placed a hand reverently on Changbin’s head to keep himself in check, his hazy gaze locked on the scene in front of him. He couldn't see much of anything. He wanted to see, though, _needed_ to see Changbin’s mouth wrapped around his dick, he knew it would look so amazing, and unconsciously gripped at Changbin’s hat, feeding into the fantasy a little bit more though he knew he couldn't take it too far. The minute shake of Changbin’s head was the reminder he needed.

Chan enjoyed giving up control, but he liked being granted it even more. Fucking Changbin’s mouth, Chan was under no delusions that it was happening because Changbin wanted it, and no other reason. He needed permission to be dominant, and Changbin was perfect about giving it to him.

Nothing, though, nothing in the world prepared Chan for hearing—and _seeing_ — _his_ _name_ coming out of Changbin’s mouth _like_ _that_. Not even when it was just after dance practice, in the fourth floor bathroom, gripping his shaft tight, thinking about when Changbin lifted his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his brow, coming, stuttering, _Changbin’s own name on his lips_ , did Chan think it would ever sound like that. So rough. So honeyed.

That was it. Chan was gone.

It took him an absurdly long time to come back to himself, and when he did, Changbin was already leaving.

“What? Wait!” Chan hurriedly pulled off and discarded the condom, tugged his clothes back in order and pushed through the crowd after Changbin, but it was no use. The crowd swallowed him up before Chan could get to him, and by the time he made it outside, Changbin was gone.

Chan sat on Changbin’s bed, waiting for him, watching the minutes bleed by on his phone, but Changbin never came home. He gave up sitting and instead paced the room, agitated. He could tell something was off but he didn't know what. He'd thought—nevermind.

Chan opened up his chat window with Changbin and typed out a quick text.

**_Chan_ ** _: where r u_

The response came a moment later.

**_Binnie_ ** **_❤_ ** _: at the studio_

Chan let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Okay, Changbin was okay. That was enough for now. They could talk tomorrow.

Tomorrow came and went, a whole series of them. They talked, some, but not about what happened. Chan didn't know how to bring it up and Changbin didn't seem fussed to do so. The only conversation they had that stuck out in Chan’s mind had been about, of all things, laundry. The only reason Chan even remembered it so vividly was because it was the last one they'd had in days. It didn't help that their schedule ramped into hyperdrive and they barely had any time to themselves. It also didn’t help that Changbin had at some point stopped sleeping in their room.

But it was okay. They still had Saturday night.

\--

Chan waited at the club for two hours, turning down a couple offers from other guys, before giving up and heading home. He pulled out his phone about a dozen times to check for messages or to send one of his own, but in the end he put it back in his pocket. If Changbin wasn’t coming, then he obviously didn’t want to see or talk to him. Maybe giving Changbin space was what he needed. Maybe Chan felt like he had a hole in his stomach.

At the last moment, instead of making that familiar right he instead went left and headed toward the studio. He didn’t know if it was because he wanted to find Changbin there or because he was avoiding him at the dorm, but either way Changbin wasn’t there and Chan was left to wallow in his misery and confusion by himself.

The next morning, Jisung found him dead asleep with his head on the desk, his elbow on the computer keyboard. He’d somehow managed to write out 20 pages of the letter a.

Jisung stared at him for a long moment, watching him wipe the crust out from the corners of his eyes before handing Chan his hot chocolate. “Rough night?”

Chan shrugged. “I’ll be okay,” he replied, voice the consistency and timber of gravel. Ugh. He took a sip of his drink to wet his dry throat and glanced around the room. He dreaded asking, but, “Uh… have you talked to Bin?”

“Nope,” Jisung shrugged. “He didn’t come back to the dorms last night, either. Thought he was with you.”

That sent a jolt through Chan, waking him up. “No?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, no. He wasn’t.”

Jisung shrugged again before digging through their contraband snack stash that no one other than 3racha knew existed under the desk. He pulled out a bag of almond laver snacks and opened them far more noisily than was necessary, Chan and his pounding head were sure. He was about to whine at him about it when the door opened a second time.

Both Chan and Jisung watched Changbin as he bounded into the room and flopped down on the couch, his head, bag and coat covered in snowflakes. “Fuck, it’s cold!” Chan couldn’t help but stare at the way the snow clung to his wavy bangs. He stared and stared. But Changbin refused to meet his eye.

“Well, if you didn’t run around with a wet head, you probably wouldn’t be so cold,” Jisung mom’d, making Changbin pull faces at him.

“Anyway,” Changbin replied loudly, sitting over on the futon (not taking his usual seat next to Chan), “what are we working on this morning? I have to meet up with Felix in about an hour, I’m having problems with the new choreo and he agreed to help me out.”

“Is that where you were? Last night?” Chan hadn't meant to ask that out loud but it was getting to him that Changbin wasn't looking at him.

“I—yeah. Kinda.” Changbin was fiddling with the laces of one boot. “I'm really lost on this routine. Felix is a lifesaver.”

“Hyung, I don't know if even Felix can help you out there,” Jisung laughed.

“Hey, at least I don't forget the moves midway through the routine.”

“Only cause you obsess over them—"

“ _Okay_ ,” Chan said loudly, silencing the room. Jisung looked over at him, taken aback. “Well, I wanted to take a look at a track I’ve got pieced together, see what you two thought. I think it could be a solid b-side for the next album, it’s sort of got some R&B in it, which for us is different…” Chan hesitated before clicking on the file. His confidence seemed to have gotten up and walked the fuck out of the room. He was too shaken. Nothing was certain anymore.

“Hyung?” Chan glanced over at Jisung, whose brows were raised at him.

“Shit, sorry,” Chan muttered, and clicked the file open.

A deep but slow bass filled the room. Jisung twirled in his chair, staring up at the stars stamped into the ceiling tiles, tapping out the beat of the instrumental, already humming out an accompanying melody. The piece itself was only about twenty seconds long, but Chan could tell Jisung already had a grasp on what he wanted to write for it. “It’s good.”

“Yeah?”

Jisung smiled at Chan, soft, allaying his trepidation. “Yeah, man, it’s really good. I think I already know what I want to write for it. What about you, Binnie-hyung?” he volleyed to Changbin, who was busy typing something out on his phone. “We could collaborate on the lyrics.”

“Huh?” Changbin glanced up at Jisung, distracted. “Yeah, I liked it, but I don’t think it really suits me. I don’t mind writing my rap for it, but if you and Chan want to take this one, I’m cool with that. I’ll get the next one.” He stood up, sliding his phone in his back pocket. “I’ve gotta head out anyway.”

“What, got a date or something?” Jisung joked. Chan dropped the pen he'd been playing with. “Did your profile finally get accepted on Amanda?”

“You’re so funny, Jisung, I don't know why you became an idol when you could've been a comedian,” Changbin deadpanned. “But no, I just realized I got my times mixed up. Felix is already waiting for me.” Chan stayed facing forward, refusing to look at Changbin. “It’ll be nice when this dating ban is gone for good, though.”

Jisung snorted. “Yeah, okay, it’s the dating ban keeping you from pulling. Sure.” He elbowed Chan lightly, looking over to his hyung to join in on the joke, but Chan was too busy staring blankly at the monitor, wanting to hunch in on himself until he was so small he disappeared completely. “Hyung?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I’m okay with this being a mine and your thing, Hannie. We can go over theme ideas later, yeah?” Even to Chan's ears his voice sounded thin and reedy.

Jisung stared at Chan, perplexed. “Yo, did this entire room eat Spacey Flakes for breakfast today? You're both acting _really_ weird.”

Changbin walked out behind them without another word, and Chan refused to even breathe until the door closed behind him. Jisung noticed his hand was shaking a little as he took a drink from his bottle of water and set it back down.

“Everything okay, dude?” he asked, steadying Chan’s hand with a touch.

“Of course!” Chan’s smile felt as fake and brittle and plastic as he did right then. “This album is gearing up to become one of our best. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Jisung turned Chan’s hand around and laced their fingers together. He squeezed his hand, and a breath trembled in Chan’s throat. “No reason, hyung,” Jisung murmured. He laid his head on Chan’s shoulder and watched him work in silence.

\--

Felix took a long draught of beer and then burped, long and loud, into the cold night air. The steam from his mouth made it look for just a moment like he had a thought bubble above his head, and that made Chan giggle. Maybe he'd had one too many beers. He tried counting in his head but couldn't remember what came after five, so he gave up.

It was a bad idea, rooftop drinking on a weeknight while a Coldplay playlist hummed lazily from Felix’s phone, but Chan wasn't full of good ideas all the time. Felix had taken one look at him in the van on the way back from filming and suggested it, and Chan couldn't come up with a good reason why not.

Well, there were plenty of reasons why not, number one being their 9am call time the next morning, but ah well, fuck it. Changbin had stood him up and then hadn't looked his way for a week straight and _that_ was a perfectly good reason to get shitfaced. Chan had held it together as long as he could. Fuck Changbin, only not like that. _Why_ was he ignoring him?

“I don't know, hyung,” Felix said. Had he said that out loud? Felix huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, you did.”

He leaned against Chan, tucking the blanket they'd dragged with them around their legs better to stave off the cold. His face looked far too sober for the way Chan was feeling. “All I know is he’s been staying with me at night. He didn't say why and I didn't pry.”

To reiterate: fuck Changbin. Chan drained the last of his beer and leaned over to try and line it up with the other empty bottles. He swayed too far and ended up on his side, looking out at the twinkling lights of Seoul. He decided it was too much effort to get back up again. Felix tried to pull him back up but his fingers were too ticklish so Chan giggled and slapped them away. He heard Felix huff but paid him no attention. Really. _Fuck_ Changbin.

He lost track of time long enough to be mildly surprised at the pair of booted feet that appeared out of nowhere and followed the line up to a face that looked a lot like Seungminnie's. Except it looked pissed. When was the last time Chan saw Seungmin mad? Huh. He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember a lot of things. You know what he could remember? The way Changbin called his name when he was coming.

“Oh my _God_ , I'm going to have to bleach my ears.”

“I don't think it works that way, but, same.”

Seungmin and Felix hauled Chan up between them but when they went to move, Chan dug in his heels. “No, I'm not going down there. _He's_ down there,” he said in a perfectly calm, level voice, really Seungmin, stop looking like that.

Seungmin pinched the bridge of his nose and looked up at the heavens as if asking why he, the second youngest member, had more sense in his pinkie than his hyungs had in their whole goddamn heads. “He's in our room, you won't even see him. Come on.” He signaled Felix to grab his other arm.

They got Chan into bed, Felix going a step further and pulling Chan's shoes off for him. Seungmin appeared again with a glass of water and a packet of acetaminophen he had to open for Chan. It took him three tries to get them in his mouth.

Felix tucked him in, pushed his hair back to kiss his forehead, and collapsed on Changbin’s empty bed across from Chan to watch over him. “Oh, Chris. What happened?”

Chan stared at Changbin’s bed until he finally passed out.

Fuck Changbin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: Uh.
> 
> I will work my hardest to get the next chapter out on time, but it may be slightly delayed. I have less of it written than I did this one.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL. WOW. Thank you so much for all the support, it means a crazy amount, you don't even know! I love everyone in this bar.
> 
> This chapter expanded like a marshmallow in the microwave, and at this point I'm not even sure it's coherent, but. I hope y'all like it! Most of it was written during a fever dream while listening to the new Agust D mixtape. Also, please forgive any transgressions against the SKZ dorm layout. My maudlin heart just really wanted melancholy Changbin in a window seat with snow falling behind him. Enjoy!

_“You okay, dude?”_

Changbin closed the door to the studio as gently as he could manage, Jisung’s voice becoming muffled and then cut off altogether as it clicked shut. Changbin leaned against the door, eyes squeezed shut. His heart felt like it was trying to hammer its way out of his chest, and he couldn’t stop trembling. There was no meeting with Felix, that had been a last second lie.

He knew it was going to be rough seeing Chan so soon after standing him up, knowing he left Chan all alone at the club with a head full of questions. But the reality was so much worse. Being in the same room with Chan looking like he hadn’t slept, wearing _that_ Vetements hoodie, something snapped in Changbin, and he felt like he was drowning. He needed to leave. And Chan had given him an out, so. He went.

Changbin felt like a zombie the rest of the day and the ensuing week, going through the motions but not really there. He did his best to act as normal as he could while also spending as little time alone with Chan as possible. Which turned out to be more difficult than Changbin had considered.

At first, he could feel Chan’s gaze hot the back of his neck, saw the effort Chan went through to try and get Changbin to engage with him, saw all the texts Changbin left on read because he didn’t know what to say. Still, as Changbin remained impassive, Chan kept trying less and less, until soon they weren’t interacting at all. Changbin should have been relieved, but all he felt instead was sad and guilty. Chan had no idea what was going on, and Changbin knew he was being deeply unfair, but the alternative was still worse. Changbin had managed to wedge himself between a rock and a hard place, and the Yelp reviews were right, it was not a good place to be. 0/10, would not wish on his worst enemy.

\--

Chan rubbed at his temples as firmly as he dared without totally screwing up his makeup. He’d had a throbbing headache since he’d been awoken that morning by Felix, looking as fresh and dewy as a spring meadow despite having drank with Chan all last night. Chan had felt like he’d been stung by a thousand bees and then drug behind a tractor trailer for a few hundred kilometers. He’d had to rush around that morning, convinced he was going to make everyone late, and managed not to take any pain pills and he was suffering deeply for it. It felt like the Daredevil hallway fight scene inside his skull.

“Here, I managed to bribe one of the stylists for these.” Seungmin plopped into the chair next to him, something in one hand. Curiously, Chan held his palm out. Seungmin plunked two blue pills into it and then bent to retrieve his water bottle from the floor. Chan gave him a grateful smile. Seungmin smiled ruefully back, then glanced around them. The crew was busy tearing down the previous shot and setting up the next one, so the members were on a small break. They were on hour three of their twelve-hour MV shoot. “Hyung, about last night.”

Chan had a feeling this was coming. He glanced around but everyone was either out of earshot or too preoccupied with their own business. Still, he kept his voice low. “What about last night?”

“Do you remember everything?”

Chan knew this was Seungmin giving him an out. It would be so easy to feign being so drunk he didn’t remember a thing. But he couldn’t do that.

“Maybe,” he sighed.

Seungmin nodded, looking grim. “You said some things that—well, I’d really rather forget—but some things that concerned me about you. And about Changbin. More explicitly, about _you and Changbin_ , if you catch my drift.”

Chan squeezed his eyes shut, as if that would make Seungmin (and this conversation) disappear. “I’m gonna pretend I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, hyung, don’t make me repeat it. I’m breaking out in hives just _thinking_ about it. Did you guys do what I think you did or not?”

Chan winced. Ow, his head. “Changbin and I… may have hooked up a couple times,” he said as low as he dared.

“Wait, this happened more than once?” Seungmin shouted, then immediately looked apologetic. “Sorry.” He hissed, “But, seriously? More than once?”

“Maybe?” Chan could hear his voice getting higher, defensive. “Anyway, what does that have to do with anything?”

“Hyung, I’m young, not stupid.” Seungmin glanced around them again, ensuring they still had their modicum of privacy, and leaned forward. “You and Changbin won’t even stay in the same room if you can help it. He’s sleeping in Felix’s bed when he has a perfectly good one that so happens to be in the same room as yours.” Seungmin said so lowly Chan had to lean in to hear him. “Is this really just a hookup gone south? Are you two going to continue to be babies about this?”

“Seungmin, I love you very much, but this is above your pay grade.”

“Not if my pay goes to zilch because this has somehow messed with the group, it isn’t.” Seungmin crossed his arms in front of him, brow furrowed. Chan was convinced that whenever he met St. Peter at the pearly gates to judge whether he made it into heaven or not, they would look a lot like Seungmin. “So tell me. Do I have anything to worry about or are you two going to pull your heads out of your butts and do something about this?”

Chan opened his mouth to reply—what, exactly, he wasn’t entirely sure—but they were interrupted by loud voices from across the empty parking lot the production team had set up camp in. Seungmin and Chan both looked over in time to see Changbin and Felix, clearly in some sort of heated argument. Chan pursed his lips. He bet he knew what they were arguing about.

He was proven right a moment later when he heard Changbin as he stalked away from Felix, “—won't sleep in your bed anymore! Problem solved!”

Felix called after Changbin, but he was out of sight by then. Chan and Seungmin shared a look and got up, intercepting Felix before he could give chase. “What did you say to him?” Seungmin asked, a hand on Felix’s arm.

“Nothing! I didn't—”

“Seungmin, Felix, please, I know I have no right to ask this after what I put you through last night, but.” Chan hesitated. “This is between Changbin and me, alright? I won't let it affect the rest of the group.”

“Hyung, it’s already affecting everyone,” Felix pled.

“It’s not affecting me,” Minho interrupted, a plate of chicken nuggets in one hand.

“Minho-hyung, you don’t even know what we’re talking about,” Seungmin retorted, hands on his hips.

“Hmm, maybe, though I could probably bet money on it being about Changbin after that cute little hissy fit he just threw. And Chan, since he was the one being drunk and loud last night. Hyung,” Minho leaned forward and placed a hand on Chan’s forearm, “you’ve really gotta learn how to hold your liquor. I noticed you guys took a six-pack up to the roof with you, and Felix came back down with two. Unless you were crossfaded,” Minho burped, “weak.”

“They were talls, though,” Felix interjected. “And I only had one.”

“ _Weak_.”

“I think we're getting a little bit off track here.” Seungmin pinned Chan with a look. “Hyung.”

Chan groaned. “I’ll figure it out, okay?” He looked from Felix’s concerned gaze to Seungmin’s steadfast one while Minho scarfed his food down in Chan’s peripheral. “I’ll fix this. I _will_.”

The assistant director called for everyone on set at that moment, interrupting them (to Chan’s relief). As they made their way over, Chan put a hand on Seungmin’s shoulder. “By the way, what exactly did you bribe the makeup noona with?” he asked curiously.

Seungmin arched one eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

\--

Chan didn’t get a chance to catch Changbin alone that day, nor any of the days following. The odds were absolutely stacked against him; between their packed schedule and all the walls Changbin had thrown up, the opportunities to talk dropped somewhere in the negatives.

\--

“So. You and Changbin fucked.”

Chan frowned down at his kimbap. In a fit of weakness, he’d confided in Jisung about what had went down the past few weeks. He was still on the fence about whether that had been a smart idea, but he needed to talk to someone, and Jisung, well, he was _there_. After Changbin, Jisung was the member he usually saw the most out of the group. “Yeah,” he answered on a sigh. 

Jisung spun around in his chair, drink to his lips. It was just the two of them in the studio. “More than once.”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant, but yes.”

“And you want to do it again.”

Chan opened his mouth, ready to lie, then closed it. Jisung deserved the truth, stupid as it was. “God, yes, but it’s more than that.”

Jisung’s eyebrows disappeared into his bangs. “You caught feelings?” Chan didn’t have to say anything, his silence was answer enough. “That’s hardcore, man.” He shoved his hand into his McDonald’s bag and fished out the pot of gold at the bottom, the bag fries. “So what’s the problem?”

Chan shook his head, chopsticks stuck between his lips. “I don’t know. I think he, maybe… caught wind of my feelings or whatever and decided to hell with all that. So he ghosted.”

“Wow, way to be all My Chemical Romance about it, Jesus. You don’t know that.”

Chan shrugged one shoulder, his attempt at remaining impassive. Ha. “Maybe, but I’m too chickenshit to find out. Things are tense enough between us. He won’t answer my texts, and I can’t get him alone to hash things out. It seems like he wants space, so I’m giving him space.”

“I think you two have overshot that by, like, a whole hemisphere,” Jisung gestured broadly with a handful of fries. “Seriously. He’s being such an asshole right now. Want me to kick him in the balls for you?”

“No,” Chan laughed in spite of how he was feeling. “God, shut up and eat your burger, Hannie. Between you and Seungmin, I can’t catch a break.”

Jisung slurped his soda loudly, grinning around the straw. “So, tell me, hyung. Changbin. Is he your endgame?”

Chan didn’t answer.

\--

Changbin looked out at the night sky, wishing he could see the stars but between the snow falling and the light pollution from the city, he could barely see the ground below him. He hugged his knees tighter, the whatever Soundcloud playlist rambling through his airpods was chill, a low tempo accompaniment to the low thoughts threading through his brain at the moment.

The tl;dr of it: he missed Chan.

He missed the sex, of course, but that wasn’t what kept revolving through his head at all times like some morose record on repeat. What he missed most was what he’d always had: the bond, the closeness. His best friend.

Changbin had a lot of those. Jisung, Felix, and Hyunjin of the members. Wooyoung, Chaeyoung and Yeonjun in his outer idol circle. His old high school friends he still kept in touch with. His producer friends from L.A. He had no shortage of shoulders and ears. But none of them were Chan.

Chan had always been Changbin’s biggest support system. He felt unmoored without him. He knew everything was fucked up because Changbin couldn't keep his fucking feelings out of it; if only he could, then none of this would be happening. Everything would be like it was before he dropped trou for Chan's dick. If only he could have shoved the way he felt deep in his guts and left it there. If only he were stronger.

Changbin was pulled out of his thoughts by a hand tugging his earbud free. He looked up into Felix's serious face and paused his music.

“Felix, hi.”

Felix looked uncharacteristically somber as he sat next to Changbin in the window seat. He stuck the stolen earbud in his own ear, pushed play on Changbin's music again, and gathered Changbin’s hands into his lap. For a while they sat quietly, the thick material of Felix's sweater tickling Changbin's nose with the way they were leant against each other, but it was too nice a moment to move.

“Yo,” he murmured after a while, nudging his shoulder against Felix's, watching him pick up each of Changbin’s fingers and play with them. “I’m sorry for yelling at you during the shoot. You were just looking out for Chan, and I appreciate that.”

“Not just Chan, hyung,” Felix said softly. “I was looking out for you, too.”

Changbin smiled, but it was small and malnourished. “I don’t deserve you.”

“No one does,” Felix said faux-haughtily, before grinning over at Changbin, a quick flash of teeth and half-moon eyes. He picked up one of Changbin’s hands still in his lap and started playing with it again. Changbin remained silent, feeling like Felix had something on his mind and he wanted to give him the time needed to get it out.

“Changbin-hyung…” Felix began. “I know something’s up between you and Chan-hyung. With the tension between you guys and the way you and hyung have been acting, I think I can guess what’s been going on. I just want to say that I don’t judge, and if you guys can make each other happy—”

“Oh my God, Lix,” Changbin groaned. “I’m going to have to stop you there. Chan and I aren’t dating. We had sex, okay? _Had_. Meaning in the past. It’s over. And it’s never going to happen again.”

“Oh.” Felix was quiet for a little, processing, then: “Do you want it to?”

“It doesn’t matter if I do, it’s just not going to happen.”

“Obviously, I don't know the circumstances surrounding what happened, but maybe you should talk to Chan about it before writing things off like that,” Felix replied, as if it were that simple.

Changbin let out a noise of frustration. “How can I talk to him when he doesn't even know it was me? To tell him that could change our entire friendship, not to mention our working relationship. What if I go off and tell Chan, ‘oh hey, by the way, it was me you were boffing,’ and he can't look at me the same? Can't look at me at all?”

“Wha--?” Felix cut himself off, head tilted to the side. “You—but he— _ohhhh_.”

“What? Lix, you look like the math lady meme.”

Felix rubbed at his temples, the picture of tested patience. “Binnie, I need you to talk to Chan, please. Okay, so it might change things between you two or within the group, but,” he blew out a breath, “aren't things already pretty strained as they are?”

“But I—” Changbin bit off his words. _I don't want to lose him_.

Felix stayed silent, sympathetic eyes trained on Changbin’s face. Changbin wondered desperately what he was seeing there, knowing he was failing masking everything he was feeling.

It just hit harder than he had expected. When he first found out it was Chan, he was shocked, of course. Not in his wildest fantasies—and he had them—did he expect Chan to be the one fucking him. To _want_ to fuck him. Changbin would have lain belly up in front of him if Chan had so much as asked, but he knew Chan's preferences, or thought he did, and Changbin did not meet the criteria.

Chan liked them small, feminine, something he could fit in his pocket and coo at. Even the boys Chan admitted to crushing on were the exact opposite to Changbin, sweet and small. Chan liked them pink and pastel and borderline anime magic girls. Changbin was loud, aggressive, ridiculous, masculine. He was nobody's baby girl. He was usually okay with that.

It had taken a while for it to sink in that it had really been Chan he'd been hooking up with because the very idea of it was so farfetched. Their friendship, their partnership, that was all they were supposed to have.

The front door opened with a clatter, Chan and Jisung piling through. As if on instinct, Chan immediately zeroed in on Changbin and Felix in the window seat. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, pulling off his coat and shoes.

“Hey, nerds,” Jisung greeted, smiling at Felix’s wave. “We got any of that leftover cake in the fridge? I'm still hungry.” He clapped Chan on the back and moved past Changbin and Felix. “You guys want any? No? Your loss,” he said without missing a beat, disappearing into the kitchen.

Chan moved at a slower pace, peeling his scarf from around his neck. “You all are more than welcome to join us if you haven’t eaten yet. I think there’s enough for everyone.” Though he addressed them both, Changbin didn’t miss how Chan’s eyes never strayed from Felix, wider than usual, as if it were a conscious effort to not look at Changbin.

He stood up abruptly. “I gotta go.” Changbin pushed past Chan and grabbed his own coat and shoes. He didn’t wait to put them on before heading out their front door and into the elevator bay. He didn’t know where he could go that time of night, but he had to go somewhere. It was stifling in there, sharing the same air as everyone else knowing he was potentially fucking everything up for all of them all because of his goddamn feelings.

He pushed the down button and panicked. Where could he go? He guessed he could go home for a few hours. To his parents. But they’d ask him what he was there for, why he wasn’t at the dorm, weren’t they in the middle of preparations for a tour? Didn’t they have a concert in a mere few days? He already had plans to get dinner with them the following day, it would be too weird to show up unannounced right then.

He shoved his feet into his trainers once he got on the elevator. He pushed the button for the ground floor and waited silently as the doors closed.

He was outside, watching the snow in the light of the streetlight, when he heard his name being called. Felix’s pink hair bobbed into view, his coat half on as he caught up to Changbin. “Are you seriously going for a walk in this?”

“Felix, go back inside, it’s way too cold for anyone to be out in this,” Changbin fussed, tugging his coat closed for him, reaching for the zipper. Felix’s bare hands closed over his, stilling them, and Changbin looked up.

“Hyung,” Felix looked like someone had broken his heart. “Hyung, you’re not no one.”

Changbin laughed, but the look on Felix’s face told him it wasn’t a joke. It died in his throat. “What do you mean?”

“You said it’s too cold for anyone to be out in this. But you’re out here. Are you no one?”

Changbin took a step back, tore his gaze away. Pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. Felix pulled him into an awkward, heavily padded hug, and Changbin broke. He gripped Felix’s coatsleeves, hating that he loved the hug so much. It had been too long since he’d had one.

\--

Chan looked up when he heard the door click open twenty minutes later, a wan smile on his face. He nodded at the door, noticing Changbin hadn't come back in with Felix. “Is he okay?” Chan was proud. His voice didn't betray him and crack one bit.

Felix hesitated, taking off his coat and shoes. He walked over and sat with Chan on the common room sofa, where Changbin had recently taken to sleeping. “He stopped at the vending machine. Hyung, I want to tell you he's okay… and I think he'll be okay, eventually, but right now…” Felix looked Chan square in the eye, solemn. “He's so sad.”

Chan looked down at the coffee table, where he was idly messing with some take out menus. “I can see that. What I don't see is what I can do about it if he won't even talk to me.”

The sound of the front door opening had them both looking toward it. Felix looked back at Chan, lips pressed in a thin line. “Hyung,” he said lowly, leaning close, “I promise you don’t know the whole story.” He left for the back as Changbin came in, shaking and hanging up his coat as well.

Changbin turned and froze when he saw Chan sitting on the couch, a packet of prawn crackers in one hand. Chan didn’t lower his gaze and watched as Changbin’s slid away, the set of his shoulders so tight they were practically at his ears.

“Hi,” Chan tried.

“Hey,” Changbin echoed, still not looking at Chan.

“Can we talk?”

He didn’t think Changbin could lock up any further, but he was proven wrong. It was almost impressive if it wasn’t also incredibly worrisome.

Changbin bent his head and shuffled into a pair of slippers, then walked past Chan. “Changbin?”

“If you want to talk, that’s fine, but I’m not doing it here.”

Changbin led him to their bedroom, where he held the door open for Chan and locked it behind them. As he brushed past, Chan could feel Changbin straighten next to him, as if touching him would burn. Chan opted to sit on his bed and watched as Changbin went to his own. He opened his mouth but hesitated; he felt like he and Changbin were hovering over a precipice and every single word or gesture, no matter how small, could push them over the edge. “I’ve missed you.”

Changbin, if anything, got smaller. He pulled his feet up and wrapped his arms around his knees; his snack lay forgotten next to him. There was a lengthy pause, but Chan waited it out, could see that Changbin was working up to saying something.

“…I’ve missed you, too, Channie-hyung.”

Chan smiled. It was so simple, but it lifted so much weight off his shoulders. “I don’t like not talking to you, Bin. You’re one of my best friends in the world. Not being able to go to you with stuff has been so much harder than I thought it would be. I never realized how much I leaned on you until you weren’t there. If you could just tell me what I did wrong—”

This was apparently the wrong thing to say. Changbin buried his face in his knees; Chan could hear a soft, high-pitched whine starting. He hesitated just a moment; what if Changbin didn’t want his touch? What if he pushed Chan away? But he couldn’t just leave him like this.

He got up and sat next to Changbin, pulling him into his arms. Changbin went willingly, slotting his face against Chan’s neck and Chan could feel the wetness, hot against his skin. He held Changbin close, arms tight around him as if Changbin would dissolve into smoke if he didn’t.

“Hyung, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.” Chan could barely understand Changbin through the tears, his voice thick and wavering, hiccupping. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m such a—I won’t leave you like that again.”

“Hey, hey, shhh, it’s okay,” Chan crooned, rubbing Changbin’s back, brushing his hair back and tucking it behind his ear. “If there’s something going on, you know you can talk to me, right? I know what we were doing was—strange—but I’m your friend first and foremost, okay? Nothing can change that.” As Chan spoke it, he knew it to be true. Even if he never got to touch Changbin like that again, it would be worth it to keep him in his life. Chan couldn’t imagine doing _any_ of this without Changbin.

“Chan?” Chan felt Changbin pulling away and slackened his grip. Changbin looked up at him—for the first time in forever, not to be a Disney song about it—and Chan’s breath caught. He forgot how beautiful Changbin was, especially with his eyelashes clumped together, his face flushed from crying. How he got a little red line around his full lips from it, and Chan wanted to trace it with his fingers. He reached out to do just that. “What’s strange?”

“Huh?” Chan asked, wholly distracted.

Changbin sat up, breaking their contact and pulling Chan out of his momentary daze. “You said we were doing something strange. I don’t follow.”

“What? Oh. Uh,” Chan laughed, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous. They hadn’t talked about the club yet; he’d always felt like it was their little secret, something they did and left there, that only existed in that time and space. To talk about it outside of that space, in fact to talk about inside this _specific_ space, felt like an out-of-body experience. But there were questions there, ones that desperately needed answers. “I was talking about, um, the.” Chan blew out a breath. Why was it so stifling in there? Was it always so hot? Was he, in fact, actually on fire? Chan couldn’t know. “The club.”

Changbin shot up from the bed, startling Chan so badly he flinched. “Fuck!” He stared at Chan as if he were seeing a ghost, complete with pointing a shaky finger at him. It would have been hilarious if it weren’t so terrifying. “ _You!_ ”

“Me?”

“You know!”

Confusion flashed through Chan, washing the panic that was readying itself to settle in away. “Of course I know. Wait, what do I know?”

Changbin gripped at his hair and started pacing the room. He was back to not looking at Chan, which was lovely. “Tell me what you know about the club,” he ordered.

Chan was starting to get a sinking feeling about this. Still, he felt compelled to answer Changbin. “I know we had sex,” he watched Changbin winch his eyes shut tightly, “I know it was hot. I know we met up three times.” Every word Chan said sounded like a nail in a coffin. “I know there wasn’t a fourth.”

“When?” Changbin whispered, so softly Chan didn’t hear him at first.

“What?”

“When? Did you know? That it was me.”

Oh, that sinking feeling? Somehow, it just got worse. “Changbin,” he replied, just as soft. “I've always known.”

Changbin turned and headed for the door.

“No, no, no,” Chan muttered. He wasn’t going to let it end like this. “No!” He grabbed Changbin’s wrist before he could exit fully and pulled him back, overcalculating and tugging harder than he needed. Changbin’s body collided with his, and Chan did not waste the opportunity presented him. He wrapped his arms around Changbin and hugged him close. “Please don’t leave,” he whispered.

For a gorgeous moment, it felt like Changbin melted into the embrace, pliant against Chan, but it was only a moment. The next, Changbin was pushing Chan away, putting distance between them.

But he wasn’t leaving anymore. Chan considered it a win.

“What do you fucking mean, you knew all along?”

“I mean exactly that,” Chan replied. “I don’t understand what’s so hard to understand.”

Chan felt his heart stop in his chest as a look of utter betrayal flickered across Changbin’s face. He wanted to shove the words back into his mouth as he watched his face shutter, expression smoothing out as he spoke. “Well, I guess there’s nothing else here then, huh? I’m glad I could be a source of entertainment for you. Amusement. Is this a game you play often, fuck the oblivious kid? I bet you have a bingo card and everything. Tell me, did the three times count for a space each, or was I only worth the one?”

Realization hit Chan like a kick to the chest. “Oh my God, you didn’t know.” He took a step toward Changbin, his hand out. “I thought you knew. I thought we were on the same page.”

“ _How_ could you have thought that when we never spoke about it outside of those times?” Changbin asked. “I mean, that’s pretty odd, right? That I never said anything to you about it here in the dorm?”

“How could _you_ have not noticed it was me?” Chan countered. “My accent isn’t exactly something you hear a lot in Korea, even in Seoul.”

“Oh, so now I'm dumb on top of being oblivious? Fuck you, Chan. Now I'm really leaving.”

“Changbin, wait, that's not what I meant—"

The door closed in Chan’s face.

\--

Hyunjin clambered into the waiting van after Changbin, wedging himself in the second row next to a very sleepy Jeongin. Changbin stalled at the door for a moment, eyes flicking around, before grabbing Hyunjin's elbow. They had just finished their first onstage rehearsal for their upcoming concert, and emotions were running a little high, if not energy. “Hyunjinnie, come sit back here with me,” he coaxed, a hopeful smile on his face.

"Hyung,” Hyunjin complained. “I'm already in and I'm too tired to move.” Jeongin koala'd onto Hyunjin's arm, his eyes already closed. Hyunjin looked back at Changbin and shrugged out an apology. When he saw what looked like disappointment on Changbin’s face, Hyunjin reached out and patted his arm. “We can spend some time together when we get back to the dorm, alright, hyung?”

As he spoke, the last to arrive, Chan, came up and poked his head into the van. “C’mon, let’s load up. We’ve still got a Vlive to do tonight. Just a short one on our way back to the dorms to hype the new MV.”

“But I’m so tiiiiired,” Jeongin let out in a loud whine, right in Hyunjin’s ear. He winced, turning away just in time to watch Changbin and Chan awkwardly climb into the back row of the van.

Changbin wedged himself into the furthest corner, shoulder butted right up against the window, turned away from Chan and subsequently Hyunjin. He went to shove his air pods in his ears, but Chan stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Vlive,” he repeated, voice soft but face serious.

Changbin froze. For a brief moment, the atmosphere in the back of the vehicle was charged. Hyunjin could practically taste the tension in the air in the scant few seconds Changbin and Chan were sat staring each other down. Hyunjin was beginning to look for an exit route, despite the fact they’d already gotten on the road. He did not want to be witness to a Chan and Changbin showdown, especially not in such a small space when they were all so strung out. No way out, better to diffuse the situation. “Hyung.”

Changbin and Chan both glanced at Hyunjin, and that seemed to break the spell. Chan abruptly let go of Changbin, who jerked his shoulder in reflex but put his earbud away. “Right, got it,” Changbin responded dully. Hyunjin gave Chan a concerned look, but he just shook his head. Hyunjin frowned.

However, when the camera started rolling, Changbin and Chan appeared to be just fine, laughing and joking along with the rest of them, though still not exactly addressing one another. The moment the camera was tucked away again, they were back to ignoring each other, tension palpable, Chan on his phone and Changbin looking out the window at the city passing by.

Jeongin, having passed out as soon as the segment ended, snuggled into Hyunjin’s side, and Hyunjin glanced back at Changbin’s reflection in the van window. He couldn’t be 100% sure, but it looked like Changbin’s eyes were on Chan. It was the look on his face that got Hyunjin, though. He was certain Changbin had never seemed so broken in all the time he’d known him.

\--

Changbin rolled and flailed on the common room couch, blanket tangled around his legs and just. _So_ uncomfortable. It also smelled like fake butter from that time Jeongin and Minho had their epic popcorn fight and spilled it everywhere.

It was quiet in the dorm, save for the occasional _pew_ _pew_ sound from where Seungmin and Jeongin were still up in the next room playing on Chan’s computer. Changbin had forgotten where he'd set down his earbuds earlier or he would've been listening to some random podcast to go to sleep. Instead, he was stuck listening to the clock over the tv ticking away.

He must have lain there, shifting from side to side, for a good hour before he heard a door open down the hall. The shuffling wasn't instantly recognizable, but the silhouette in the entryway was.

“Come to bed.”

Changbin propped himself up on one elbow. “What?”

“You're miserable out here, I hear you tossing and turning every night.” Chan sounded worn thin, a shell. “We have a really packed day tomorrow and I need you at your best. Come to bed. Swallow your pride or whatever it is that's making you do this.”

Changbin rolled over, giving Chan his back.

Chan exhaled and Changbin heard him walk over before he felt the couch dip. There was a long pause, and then, quietly, “I don't think you're dumb.”

Changbin held his breath.

“Or, if you're dumb, then so am I. I should have noticed that you didn't know. Thinking back on it, it seems pretty obvious that we weren't on the same page a lot of the time.”

Changbin rolled over and sat up. He could make out Chan's profile in the low level of light coming from the streetlights outside. “Yeah, we're both kind of dumb.”

“When did you figure it out?” Chan asked. Changbin gave him a deadpan look, and Chan snapped his fingers. “The hoodie. It was the one I wore all those times, wasn't it?” Changbin nodded, quiet. “And then you didn't show that next Saturday.”

Silence stretched between them like taffy, going thin in the middle until Changbin felt like he would snap. He stood up and gathered his blanket and pillow, heading toward the bedroom. He stopped when he saw Chan still sitting on the couch and cocked his head. “Fine, hyung. Let’s go to bed.”

\--

Changbin was almost asleep when he heard movement from across the room. He squinched his eyes shut tight and tried to ignore it, but a moment later, he could sense someone standing next to his bed. Since he hadn’t heard the door open, it could only be one person. “What do you want, hyung,” he asked flatly.

“I can’t sleep.”

“What’s new?” Changbin replied on a sigh.

Chan made an agitated noise and sat on the edge of Changbin’s bed, his back to him, head in his hands. Changbin knew because he peeked. “I just—I know I’d be able to sleep if I could just…” He gasped out the thinnest laugh in the world and ran a hand through his hair, clearly stressed.

“You could just what?”

Chan made a rude gesture toward his own crotch.

Changbin could not believe his ears. “What?” he said half-jokingly. “You need to come?” He sat up when Chan did nothing and stared at his back, the tense set of his shoulders. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? Can’t you just go jerk off in the bathroom like the rest of us?”

“I could, but I’m just going to think about you in there anyway,” Chan said so bluntly Changbin wanted to fall off his bed. The rush of _wantneedmusthave_ that rolled over Changbin at the casual way Chan announced that. Despite literally everything between them being a complicated jumble of ridiculousness, that part definitely had not dissipated. “Why not just do it with you?”

“You’ve gotta be _fucking_ kidding me.”

“You mean to tell me you don’t think about me anymore? _Really_?”

Changbin’s mouth opened and closed a few times, gobsmacked. “I—that’s none of your business—”

“So you’re saying you don’t want to? Cause that’s fine. I’ll leave you alone.” Chan looked over at Changbin finally, their eyes locking in the dim light of the room. “I just thought you should know.”

Changbin scoffed. “I didn’t need to know shit, Chan,” he said weakly. “You could have kept that to yourself.”

Chan moved to get up but Changbin, with a loud sigh and a roll of his eyes, reached out and shoved him down on the bed. “Fucking—get over here,” he said gruffly, and Chan obeyed without a word. Changbin kicked at his covers and pulled him down until they were both laying on their sides, chest-to-back, and Changbin had one arm around Chan, keeping him in place.

Wedging one thigh in between Chan’s legs, Changbin wasted no time in plunging his hand down Chan's sweatpants and palming his dick. It was already at full hardness, running the span of Changbin’s hand and then some. Chan let out a low, quiet moan that had Changbin smirking, and he cupped Chan’s balls, unsticking them from his leg and rolling them in his hand. He moved back up to his cock and thumbed at the head before wrapping around him fully. “Who knew you freeballed?” he murmured against Chan's ear, loving the shudder he got for his efforts. He shoved his free arm underneath Chan, wrapping it around his torso and keeping them flush together, his palm over Chan's insane abs. The angle was awkward, but he got to feel it when Chan's muscles contracted, reacting to Changbin's hand job and that was enough to make up for the slight discomfort.

Chan was making all sorts of high, whimpering noises that went straight to Changbin's dick, pressed as it was in his own sleep pants against Chan’s ass. He couldn't help the slight undulating of his hips in time to the strokes up and down Chan's cock, but that wasn't his focus, so he tried his best to ignore it.

Chan, however, was being as unhelpful as ever. He roped his own arm back and pressed it against Changbin's hip, holding them together as he pushed back against Changbin's dick held prisoner between their bodies. It was heaven and hell at the same time and Changbin had to bite at his own lips to keep his moans in check. Chan, sensing this, offered his neck as tribute and Changbin gratefully latched on, first mouthing at the knobs of Chan's spine before sucking his earlobe into his mouth. Chan hissed out his pleasure and Changbin got the brilliant idea to bring his free arm up and press his forearm firmly against Chan's throat, just enough to keep him prone. He mouthed at the tendons of Chan’s throat then scraped teeth ever-so-lightly against his jawbone, making Chan keen. His other hand sped up, grip so tight it had to be painful for Chan, but he was still urging Changbin onward, his hips caught fitfully in the gorgeous dilemma of whether to fuck forward into Changbin’s fist or backward against his hard, trapped cock. Changbin could relate.

For a handful of moments, it was good, _so_ good, but Changbin could tell it wasn't going to be enough.

“Bin, I'm so close,” Chan whispered/sobbed, his frustration bleeding through his voice.

“What do you need, baby?”

“I-I-I,” Chan stuttered, reaching between them to tug down his sweatpants as much as he could. Catching on to what Chan wanted, Changbin left his dick to push down first Chan's pants then his own, freeing his own hard cock and pushing it between Chan's cheeks as he slid fingers around Chan again. He jerked his hips in counterpoint to the rhythm his fist had set up and used his own copious precome and the sweat of their bodies to ease his way as he rubbed himself against the cleft of Chan's ass.

That was all it took. Chan turned his head and pressed his face into the pillow to muffle his cries as he came over Changbin’s fingers, hot and thick, pulsing out in waves. Fuck, Changbin was going to have to change his sheets before going back to sleep.

Changbin moved to pull away, but Chan held him steady. “Where are you going?”

Changbin looked down at himself. “To take care of what you did to me.”

“Keep going,” Chan gasped, fingers digging into his arm. “Finish on me.”

Changbin groaned, pushing Chan onto his stomach and grabbing his hips. “God, hyung, you can't just _say_ stuff like that.” He rubbed himself against Chan's buttocks, spreading his cheeks with his thumbs and rutting against Chan's hole. It wasn't long before he orgasmed, come pooling on Chan's lower back. He let go and rolled onto his back on the bed, shoulders wedged uncomfortably between Chan's and the wall.

For a while, the only sound in the room was their combined heavy breathing. Changbin wondered if his heart would ever forgive him for everything he’s put it through.

“Eurgh, I’m covered in come,” Chan complained, wiping where Changbin's spunk covered hand had gripped his hip. He held up his hand, the light coming from the window making it look like pearlescent slime. “Dude, it's running down my crack,” he grimaced.

“You told me to come on you!” Changbin shoved Chan’s shoulder, indignant. “Don't complain to me when I was just doing what you wanted.”

“It was hot in the moment. Now it's just,” Chan reached forward, hanging off the side of the bed to reach for something to clean off with. His caught a pair of basketball shorts that had been flung to the floor with his fingertips and pulled them to him. Good enough.

“Wae! Those are mine!”

“Shouldn't have left them on the floor, bruh. Free real estate,” he retorted, shooting a grin over at Changbin that had his heart doing a lazy flop in his chest as they cleaned up and adjusted their clothing.

For a while after, it was quiet, Changbin staring up at the ceiling, Chan on his side breathing silently next to him. Eventually, Chan started tracing doodles on Changbin’s chest with his finger, occasionally moving up far enough to trace Changbin's chin scar or poke at his lips. It was a nice reprieve from all the tension between them lately.

So of course, Chan had to go and fuck it all up by opening his big, sexy mouth. “So… apology accepted?” he asked sheepishly.

Changbin barked out a laugh. “Okay, first off, is that what this is? An ‘I'm sorry' fuck?”

Chan buried his face in the arm he had hiked behind his head. “No, ugh,” he half-groaned, half-laughed, a noise that made Changbin smile despite himself. “This wasn't planned, I mean, not really.”

Changbin hiked an eyebrow. “Not _really_?”

Chan groaned. “That’s it, I’m leaving.” He _oofed_ as Changbin pushed him back down against the mattress with one hand on his chest. “Um, hot.”

“You’re insatiable.”

“Yes, and you’re also a horny 20-something male. Point?”

“Way to make generalizations, hyung.”

“Am I wrong? I mean, in this _specific_ situation, with the _specific_ people involved, tell me I’m wrong.”

Changbin rolled his eyes. Chan chuckled, leaning over and brushing Changbin’s fringe out of his eyes. “I'm sorry.”

“You already said that.”

Chan hummed. “But this time I'm sorry I ever made you feel like I didn't want you. That I wouldn't want you.”

“Christopher Bang, you're too smooth for your own good.”

Laughter bubbled from Chan’s chest; Changbin could feel it where his hand rested against it. Changbin grinned, then sobered. “I'm sorry, too.”

Chan groaned. “Not this again.”

“Shut up!” Changbin kidney punched him. Predictably, Chan pretended to be winded. “I treated you like crap because I think I might, uh.”

“You might what?” Chan asked, head cocked, face open, guileless, goddamn this fucking boy scout.

“I wouldn’t be opposed if we, um, again, I-I—” Changbin stammered, feeling his face bursting into flames, Jesus fuck, why was this so hard? Stupid fucking feelings could go fuck themselves, that’s what they could do. “Ugh, nevermind.”

Understanding dawned on Chan’s face. “Oh. _Oh_. Yeah?” The smile splitting Chan’s face was almost enough to quell the embarrassment crawling through Changbin’s gut. “You’re so cute, Seo Changbin. I can’t resist you.”

Changbin made a sound like a dying whale and buried his head in his pillow. “ _Hyung_ ,” he whined.

“Oh, no, go on. Tell me in detail how much you like me.”

“Eat shit.”

“You liiiike me,” Chan teased. “Like, as in more than a friend.”

Changbin tried to push Chan off the bed.

“If you want, you could give Hannie a note to pass to Seungmin to pass to Minho to give me in homeroom.”

Changbin gave a long-suffering sigh. “Oh, could I? I'll fold it into the shape of a heart first, will that sway you?”

“Only if you spray your favorite cologne on it first. Oh! And make sure that you draw actual ‘do you like me? Check yes or no’ boxes so I can use my scented markers to answer.” Chan thumbed Changbin’s chin, his mouth quirked in the smallest, sweetest smile Changbin had ever seen in his life. “I’d check yes, by the way. Don’t want to keep you in suspense.”

The tremor that ran through Changbin’s whole body, the way his breath caught, the absolutely stupid noise he made in the back of his throat; Changbin wondered which one he’d remember years from now when he thought back to this moment. Probably none of them because he’d instead choose to remember the way Chan’s hair fell in his eyes, how tired and sweet and soft he looked gazing down at him, how the room smelled like sex but it was still the most wholesome moment of Changbin’s life so far. Yeah. Those were the things he’d remember. “Chan.” _Yes_.

Chan leaned down and pressed the gentlest kiss in the entire world against the apple of Changbin’s cheek, and wow, okay, that’s what breathing was. Okay. “So, are we,” Chan ducked his head, suddenly shy? His Chan? It was more likely than you think. “Are we good?”

Changbin smiled, licking his bottom lip. He lifted one shoulder. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“You guess?” Chan reached over and tickled Changbin’s side. Changbin flinched hard and howled. “You _guess_?” Chan held Changbin down as he assaulted his sides. A thump on the wall above their heads had them pursing their lips to try and contain their laughter, and Chan went limp against Changbin, looking relaxed for the first time in weeks. He gazed down, thumbing at Changbin’s bottom lip. Changbin really, really liked the look on Chan’s face right then.

“What are you thinking about?”

Changbin smirked, giving into the temptation and touching Chan's face, cupping his jaw. “I think I figured out why I didn't know it was you. I couldn't see your big nose under the mask.”

“Oh, like you're one to talk!”

Changbin grinned. “I know. Our first kiss is going to be interesting, trying to figure out all the angles.”

Chan hummed in thought. “Do you want to kiss me right now?”

Changbin’s smile softened. “I do, but I think enough has happened tonight. I'm exhausted. For now, I'd rather sleep.”

“Hmm, yeah. That sounds good.”

Chan settled in and dropped his head to Changbin’s shoulder, linking their fingers together. Changbin was surrounded by Chan’s touch, the smell of his skin, his sweat, the feel of his curls against his collarbones.

So strange how it reminded Changbin of the word ‘home.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stream Streetlight by Changbin ft. Bang Chan.
> 
> Up Next: Epilogue AKA DO THEY KISS HOW CAN I WRITE 20K OF A FIC AND THEY DON'T EVEN KISS WTFFF


	4. Epilogue

After Chan confided in Felix, there was a running bet through the dorm concerning when and how Chan and Changbin would have their first kiss. Hyunjin and Seungmin both bet it would happen in the studio. Jisung, who didn't want to be witness to that _at all_ , decided to bet on it happening in their bedroom (where no one would be witness, and they could lie if they wanted, so probably not the best bet). Felix, ever the romantic, bet that it would occur during one of their concerts in the wings right before they went onstage. Minho bet that it would happen, full stop, so he could be assured at least part of the winnings. Everyone objected, and eventually, through much pouting, he chose that it would happen during dance practice. Jeongin wanted absolutely no part of this sick ritual and bet that both Chan and Changbin's mouths would fall off before it ever happened.

No one won.

\--

Changbin stood at the bar, brim of his hat low, mask up. He peeled off the label of his beer as he watched one of the TVs behind the bar, the screen playing the music video of the song pulsing through the speakers and, subsequently, his blood. He couldn’t help but mull over the last time he was in this place. He had really thought he’d be found out and bring all the walls crumbling down on his team. He was happy all his fears about being recognized were unfounded, but he still honestly never thought he would step foot in this club ever again. But some people could be very persuasive.

“Don’t you have an early flight tomorrow? Should you be out at such a disreputable place of business this time of night?” said a voice in his ear as a hand settled over Changbin’s ass.

Changbin quirked an eyebrow and turned to the person next to him, tucking his mask under his chin. “Hey, stranger. Thanks for your concern, but I’m waiting for someone. Pale, weird accent, big nose, insane abs. You know him?” He took a swig of his beer and nudged at a second one waiting on the bar top.

Chan tugged down his own mask and accepted the bottle with a grateful nod, taking a swig. “Oh, I think I know who you’re talking about. He’s a prick, you should really find someone better.”

“Hmm, you think so?” Changbin angled his body until it was barely a few centimeters away from Chan’s, tonguing the lip of his beer bottle to keep Chan’s focus on his mouth. “Think you could tempt me? Well, go on then.”

Chan took both of their beers and put them firmly on the bar top, before taking Changbin’s hand and leading him toward the back. They found a relatively private spot near a corner, ignoring everyone else around them/ Chan pushed Changbin against the wall, caging him in. “This feels familiar.”

He bent and licked at the pulse point of Changbin’s neck, nuzzling into it for just a moment before kissing his way up to Changbin’s mouth. He hovered like that, mere centimeters apart. “The guys are going to be so mad when they find out that none of them won.”

“Worth it,” Changbin growled, before sealing their mouths together.

\--

They were in some city across the US, having just finished up the fourth concert in that leg of their tour, and despite having left their blood, sweat and tears on the floor of the stage, everyone was still riled up. Changbin especially was energized, and he left no guesswork for Chan as he herded him into their shared hotel room, slammed the door closed and immediately pressed Chan to it. Their bags, coats and Chan's shirt were shucked off before he even had a chance to protest, and Changbin attached himself to Chan’s neck in the very next breath.

“Whoa—OH!” Chan clutched Changbin’s broad-as-fuck shoulders as he was suddenly lifted up against the door, Changbin’s hands possessive as they palmed his ass. Changbin’s mouth trailed a path down his chest and instantly found one of Chan’s nipples and bit down, making Chan cry out before it morphed into a hiss. “Holy fucking— _Bin_ ,” he moaned lowly.

“You were a fucking tease tonight,” Changbin growled, pulling off just to move his attention to the other nipple, his tongue warm and wet and unrelenting, making Chan buck up as best he could against Changbin’s front, his booted feet crossed tight just above the swell of Changbin’s ass. “So hot up there. I thought I was going to go crazy watching you and now I’m finally gonna get my revenge. I want you hard; desperate—I wanna hear you shouting _my_ name tonight.”

He hauled Chan off the door and carried him to the bed, throwing him down and following after none-too-gently. Chan giggled—fucking _giggled_ , what kind of kindergarten shit was Changbin pulling out of him? —and cradled Changbin in his arms like he was something precious, but Changbin pushed them back down. He obviously wasn’t about taking it slow tonight, if the way he looked at Chan was anything to go by.

Changbin’s grin was wicked, unraveling any reservations Chan may have had. He climbed over Chan, settling in his lap, and pinned both his hands over his head with one of his own. “Wha--?” but before Chan could question it, Changbin bent down and licked a path from Chan’s navel to his neck. He was careful not to leave any marks, but his teeth still felt like heaven on Chan’s skin and he sighed deeply at the sensations Changbin was pulling out of him. Changbin moved to Chan’s armpit, burying his face and inhaling deeply before biting lightly at the sensitive skin of his underarm. All the while, his hips never stopped, rocking incessantly in Chan’s lap, the seat of his pants rubbing against Chan’s trapped erection without mercy.

And then he gripped at Chan’s jaw.

Changbin’s small mouth was every bit as plush as Chan had imagined it would be back at the club. He always knew he was going to like kissing Changbin, but he had no idea just how much. Changbin made these tiny, breathy noises whenever he was really getting into it, sounds unlike anything Chan had ever heard him make before. Kissing Changbin was dangerous as hell, and Chan absolutely loved it. Changbin didn’t so much kiss Chan as fuse their mouths together, thrusting his tongue inside with little preamble, and it was every bit as heaven as it always was. Chan was straining against Changbin, and though he knew he probably could have, he wasn’t even trying to break his hold. “You’re—ah! —you’re wearing too much,” Chan managed between kisses, chasing Changbin’s mouth with his own.

Changbin smirked; he bent his head and lapped at Chan’s nipple again, laughing out a breath when his bold, fearless leader mewled like a kitten underneath him. Changbin's never really had a thing for nipples, but Chan was beginning to make him have one. Chan's were so sensitive all Changbin had to do was lightly tweak them or just barely touch his tongue to one and he was a writhing mess. Changbin wondered if he could make Chan come by just sucking on his nipples. Another time, perhaps. “I suppose, if it would make you happy,” Changbin stretched his arm back and picked at the neck of his own shirt, shucking it off and forcibly to the side, almost taking a picture frame off the wall in the process. He winced; Chan laughed before curling out a hiss as Changbin rocked even harder against him. Changbin decided then and there that he loved watching Chan come apart underneath him. Honestly, now that he'd finally gotten to witness it, he probably would never tire of watching Chan’s face as he touched and kissed down his (admittedly gorgeous, shh no one tell Chan he said that) body.

Such as right then, Chan’s chest was flushed and heaving, tension in his neck as he kept his hands dutifully above his head. His face was pure poetry, stripped bare of anything except desire. “You want me to come in my pants like a teenager?” he ground out between clenched teeth.

“Maybe,” Changbin huffed. “Maybe I’m just enjoying all the noises I’m getting out of you. Don’t normally get to hear you like this. Want to enjoy it while I can.”

Chan had to agree; he wanted to do all the things he'd been denied during their club hookups, like map Changbin's entire body with his tongue. “I wanna eat you out,” he groaned as Changbin came closer; he felt more than heard him chuckle as Chan arched up and pressed his lips to Changbin's throat, his first foray into disobedience that night, but Changbin didn’t seem to mind. He trailed kisses down Changbin's chest until he got his revenge, latching onto one of Changbin's nipples and biting down. Changbin yelped above him, relenting, freeing Chan’s wrists from his grip. Immediately, Chan’s hands flew to Changbin’s sides, palming them reverently before lifting Changbin off him in a show of strength that he knew Changbin would appreciate.

“So can I?” he panted, rolling them both over so he was hovering over Changbin.

Changbin bit his lip, coquettish. “Maybe another time. I just really want your dick in me right now.”

“Fine, but I'm holding you to that.” At Changbin’s confirmation, Chan whooped and slid off the bed. “Off,” he commanded, though he needn’t have said anything, because Changbin was already a step ahead of him, sitting up and pulling off his boots and unbuckling his pants.

Chan himself decided that they were past the point of clothing and quickly removed what little else he was wearing before padding over to his duffle bag and pulling out a condom and packet of lube. He turned back to Changbin and paused for a moment with one knee on the bed, taking in the man in front of him. He’d waited so long for this moment, and he wasn’t going to waste it. His eyes trailed up Changbin’s defined legs and thick thighs, blushing stupidly at the angry red cock before flicking his gaze up at Changbin’s face. The look in his eyes had Chan’s heartbeat quickening, a hot throb of want coursing through him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at him like they wanted to devour him whole—and he _liked_ it. “ _Bin_.”

“Fuck you, why are you so fucking sexy?” Changbin all but growled in that low, guttural voice of his. “Fucking get over here and get inside me before I do this without you. Don’t think I didn’t pack my vibrator.”

“Oh my God, you didn’t,” Chan laughed, falling back into bed and covering Changbin's body with his own.

“Hmm, okay, no, but I seriously thought about it.”

Chan couldn't resist another kiss, two, three, petting down Changbin's front until he gripped his cock loosely between his thumb and two fingers. Chan swallowed Changbin’s groan down as he gave it a few experimental tugs before cupping his balls and rolling them. Changbin's hips had a mind of their own, undulating softly as Chan explored his body. He petted between Changbin’s legs, curling his fingers down, the tips just brushing against his hole. Changbin gripped Chan's shoulders and turned away from his kiss, whining. “Shhh,” Chan pressed a finger to Changbin's lips, who promptly opened his mouth and sucked it inside. Chan moved down until he was between Changbin's legs, pushing them up and guiding Changbin to hold them against himself.

Chan couldn't get enough of the way Changbin's stomach gained the cutest fucking rolls when he pushed his legs up. He wanted to touch and tickle and run his tongue over each delicate pinch of skin until Changbin was screeching with laughter. Instead, he concentrated on opening Changbin up, the lube drizzling down and coating Chan's hand up to his wrist as he thrust one finger inside. Changbin gripped Chan’s forearm with both hands as he worked him open, not controlling anything but more as if he needed Chan to anchor him in place, like he was afraid he was going to drift off if he didn't have that contact. It was leagues removed from that questionable back room they only knew each other like this through. The amount of trust Chan could see on Changbin’s face—hell, the fact he could even _see_ his face at all—spurred Chan onward, and in no time he was four fingers deep, Changbin’s hips meeting each thrust. “I think I'm ready,” Changbin confirmed, breath stuttering, voice high and raspy, perfectly Changbin.

Chan pulled his fingers out, watching as Changbin got comfortable beneath him. He traced the curve and swell of Changbin’s sides with his hands, fitted his tiny waist between them. “How are we doing this?”

A huff of laughter. “Don't tell me you've already forgotten how to fuck? C'mon, it hasn't been that long,” Changbin teased, no bite to his words. He reached for Chan, lacing their fingers together and tugging Chan forward, their mouths meeting halfway. “Don't overthink it, just let it happen,” he murmured, peppering Chan's face and neck in kisses. “Now, c'mon, _hyung_ ,” the grin Changbin threw at Chan was pure devilry, “fuck me like you did before. No!” He held up a finger, smirking. “Fuck me better.”

Chan groaned, cursing Changbin’s name but did as he was bidden, giving Changbin one last long, filthy kiss before reaching for the condom. Pinching the tip and rolling it on, Chan leaned back and aligned the head of his dick with Changbin’s hole.

He paused, looking at Changbin underneath him, his chest flushed and heaving, a blush high on his cheekbones. It was an overwhelming feeling, seeing him spread out before him like this, knowing him in a way Chan had only ever imagined before. He couldn’t help, as he gazed down at Changbin, but think that he needed to see this every day for the rest of his life.

“Hyung,” Changbin whispered, Chan recognizing the raw need in his eyes.

That was all the push Chan needed. He bent over Changbin, guiding his cock in, feeling the resistance and then the heat, the tightness Chan had missed so. It had been far too long.

Once he was fully inside, Chan found the angle so different but oh so nice, Changbin relaxing around him and easing the way. He pressed one hand to Changbin's chest, cupping a thick pec and squeezing—making Changbin bark out a quick laugh—before letting instinct take over.

The first few thrusts were experimental, just them finding their rhythm, but soon Chan was snapping his hips against Changbin, their gazes locked on each other, unwavering. It was intense.

Chan already knew he loved fucking Changbin, but in a bed where they didn't have to rush, didn't have to hide who they were was a whole new experience. Changbin was splayed out on his back before Chan, the flat of his feet pressed low on Chan’s belly, knees out, as Chan fucked into him, his own thighs spread wide. Chan controlled the pace, pulling Changbin’s ass back against his lap as he thrust slowly, deeply, his tongue caught between his teeth in concentration. Changbin proved once again that he was the sexiest thing Chan had ever seen, one fist loose around his own cock, stroking it as an afterthought, arrhythmic, too caught up in Chan to pay attention to himself. His body was flushed and hard and he felt so amazing around Chan's dick that Chan knew he wasn't going to last for very long. But that was okay. They had all night.

The heat their bodies was generating made the slide that much slicker as Chan bent down and kissed Changbin, Changbin's legs locking around his waist. The angle was better, deeper, and Chan was able to close a fist around Changbin's dick and finally give him that much needed friction. 

Taking into account how the night began, and everything Chan knew about him sexually up to that point, Changbin was surprisingly soft when he was close to coming. Chan had no idea how he missed it in the club, but underneath him Changbin was becoming a whining, squirmy mess. Chan found it weirdly sweet and endearing. It took little to push him over the edge; in fact, all Chan did was lightly dig his thumb in the slit at his cockhead and moan out Changbin's name. Changbin tensed around him, squeezing excruciatingly tightly, his nails digging into the tops of Chan's shoulders enough that Chan knew he was going to have to be careful with his wardrobe choices the next couple stops. No sleeveless shirts for a while. Chan worked him through it patiently, stroking the last bits of come out, marveling only a little at the puddle it created inside the concave dip of Changbin’s navel. Having had all his previous sexual encounters in places where he could never take his time, Chan was enjoying witnessing all the little things he'd normally miss. Such as watching his partner come apart underneath him.

Changbin finally came back to Earth, opening his eyes—were those tears at the corners? —and smiling up at Chan in an oddly tender moment that had Chan's heart thumping a little bit harder in his chest. Which was insane because he already felt like he'd run a marathon. “Um, can I—?” He thrust again, shallowly.

Confused, Changbin glanced down. “Oh! Fuck, shit, I'm so sorry, fuck, yeah, I mean, of course.” Changbin's babbling was cut off into a high-pitched moan by Chan's next thrust, much harder than the last. Chan bent down as he fucked back into Changbin, no real finesse to his movements, he was simply chasing the need to come now, but Changbin didn't seem to mind. Chan had been so close earlier, and it took only a few snaps of his hips to get him back to that point; he was driven even further after burying his nose in Changbin's pulse point at his throat and closing his teeth around the oh-so-delicate skin there. Changbin’s gasped cries only egged him on further. He didn't bite down, but it was a near thing, and Chan had to pull back before he came or else he knew he was going to leave a mark.

He rose up, grabbing Changbin's hips and bodily shoving him down on his cock as he rutted into him as fast as his hips would allow. Knowing he was seconds away, Chan pulled out and held Changbin down with one hand, pushing his leg back flat against his stomach. Ripping the condom off, Chan hurriedly wrapped his fist around his cock and jerked off over Changbin’s gaping hole, his gaze laser focused on how it fluttered over the emptiness, knowing he had done that. His orgasm hit him like a punch to the kidneys, the release nearly painful. He groaned as spurt after thick spurt landed on Changbin’s ass, taint and balls and, of course, over that gorgeous hole.

Before Chan could really think about what he was doing, he bent down and licked his jizz from between Changbin’s cheeks, taking his time, tongue lapping up and sucking each ball into his mouth until they were clean. He'd never done something so dirty in his life, but Changbin was dragging so many new things out of him and that thrilled Chan to no end. Changbin keened above him; Chan couldn't resist and stuck his middle finger inside Changbin, finding his prostate and working him through a second, weaker orgasm, watching in awe as Changbin's half hard cock spurted a thin dribble of come before Changbin tugged his hand away. Changbin looked wrecked beneath him, and god, that was the new hottest thing Chan had ever seen in his life, he thought deliriously before collapsing into his arms, spent.

Changbin caught Chan as he fell, enveloping him in his arms, stroking his back soothingly as Chan buried his face in Changbin's chest. Charmed. That was how Changbin felt in that moment; nasty, covered in his own cooling spunk, Chan's saliva and both their sweat, feeling rubbed raw and aching and absolutely, endearingly _charmed_ by one Bang Chan.

But when Chan leaned up to kiss him, Changbin grimaced and shoved his palm against his mouth none-to-gently. “Get _away_ , your tongue was just licking come out of my _ass_. I'm not kissing you, you disgusting fuck.” He pushed a giggling Chan to the side and got up to go clean himself off. “That might be hot in the moment, but right now I just want to go clean up and eat. And by eat I do _not_ mean you eating my ass.”

Chan propped himself up on his elbow, unabashedly ogling Changbin. “But I like your ass. It's cute.”

Changbin snorted. “That makes one of us.” He bent to retrieve a pair of boxers from the floor and Chan hopped up quickly, stopping him.

“Hey,” he cradled Changbin to him, his hands on either side of Changbin’s face. “Changbin, you're beautiful. Okay?”

Changbin rolled his eyes and pulled away from Chan. “Someone gets sappy after sex.” Still, he couldn't help the warmth that filled his chest. Chan slapped his butt before he could get away too far, and Changbin yelped. “God, stop it. You've got an ass fetish, don't you?”

“Just yours. It takes my dick so well.”

“Fuck, Chan, what the hell.” Changbin could feel his face heating up. He saw Chan wiggle his eyebrows at him out of the corner of his eye and burst out laughing. “You’re so thirsty.”

“Can you blame me? I've been dreaming about this since that first time at the club.”

Chan followed Changbin into the bathroom, making grabby hands at Changbin as he bent to start the shower. Changbin laughed and slapped his hands away, but soon they were making out under the spray as if they hadn't just come moments ago. They were both pleasantly surprised to find they had similar refractory periods and gave each other handies before washing up.

They switched to the clean bed to lounge in and eat the leftover chicken from their minifridge, Changbin feeling decadent but knowing he probably looked stupid in the single terrycloth robe the hotel provided. He rolled across the bed until his head was pillowed in Chan's lap.

“Tonight was wild,” Chan murmured, distractedly playing with Changbin's damp hair. Changbin gave him a look that said _no duh_ , and Chan giggled. “No, I mean, well, yeah, that part was crazy. But I was talking about the concert. Tours are always… so much. But I think this one will be one of my favorites. I mean, it's still early, but… yeah.”

“Hyung, has anyone told you that you ramble after sex?”

“Shut up!” Chan shoved at Changbin, moving to pin him to the mattress. “Has anyone told you you get really,” Chan enunciated each word with a pointy finger to Changbin's side, which made him howl, “really, _really_ whiny right when you're about to come?”

“At least I—oh, fuck, haha, _stop_ —at least my O face doesn't make me look like Elvis Presley! Your fuckin snarl!” Changbin screeched, trying and failing to both buck Chan off him with his hips and capture his hands.

“Elvis?! The fuck, Bin, I don't look like Elvis??”

Changbin managed to flip them over, landing them partially in the chicken, but he didn't care because he finally had the upper hand. He pushed Chan’s hands up above his head and smirked down at him. “Now _this_ looks familiar.” The smirk slipped off his face when he saw how serious Chan looked all of a sudden. “What?”

Chan licked his lips, a nervous habit Changbin was well aware of, but his face was so open at that moment. “You know that I want this, right? What's between us? I want you. Like, all of it, not just the sex. I’d like to call you my boyfriend if that’s okay.”

Changbin sat back on Chan's legs, pensive. “Yeah, I do. I…” Why was he suddenly so anxious? He could feel his blood kicking the walls of his veins, charging through as if his body were a building on fire. And yet.

He felt so soft, too, and new. Chan was new. They'd been side by side for years, they knew each other better than anyone else in the world except maybe Jisung, they were _best_ _friends_ , but still Chan felt new.

Changbin decided he was finally ready for something new.

“Me, too,” he replied, barely above a whisper but it was there. He took a steadying breath, and the hand that Chan was holding out for him. He tucked himself into Chan's side, resting his head on Chan’s bare shoulder. “I'm not, like, in love with you, but.”

Chan stroked Changbin’s side softly. “But?”

“…I think I'm on my way there.”

It was silent in the room for a moment, though a comfortable one, before Chan spoke. “Me, too.”

END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who read, thank you doubly to anyone that kudo'd or wrote to me about the story. Fun fact that I completely forgot to mention: the title Heartbeat comes from the Childish Gambino song of the same name. Y'all, I am so super sad to see this come to a close, I've had a lot of fun writing it and sharing it with everyone. HOWEVER, I have more stuff in the works, so look for that! You can also find me on the [tumbl](https://trashb1nnie.tumblr.com/), as Chan calls it. Again, THANK YOU and I hope y'all liked it!


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